Today is my son's 25th birthday. I haven’t written about Elijah in a long time, but writing is therapeutic, and 25 is a significant birthday...so I write.
“And because His love cannot fail, He will allow into our lives only the pain and heartache that is for our ultimate good...Trust is not a passive state of mind. It is a vigorous act of the soul by which we choose to lay hold on the promises of God and cling to them despite the adversity that at times seeks to overwhelm us...God’s plan and His ways of working out His plan are frequently beyond our ability to fathom and understand. We must learn to trust when we don’t understand.” Jerry Bridges
I still don't understand, and I doubt I will this side of heaven, but I trust my Lord.
I have a memory from our time with Elijah that I’ve never written about…it was too painful...too precious...too private. But it feels like a good day to share. This memory is one small, yet profound moment from the day Elijah was born…a memory I can still hear.
 |
| Elijah in Daddy's arms~ |
Elijah Shawn Gonzales was born at 10:08 pm on January 5, 2001. The doctor called his death at 11:48 that same night. Other than in shows or movies, I had never heard the time of death called. We knew our son was leaving us…he was leaving us long before he was even born.
But for one hour and 40 minutes, he was with us.
He was with us.
The beautiful gift of life that had filled my womb now filled my arms.
 |
| Precious Elijah with Mommy and Daddy~ |
Elijah made one tiny, soft cry and then was quiet, but we heard him. He looked at his daddy and me with his gray-blue eyes and then closed them forever, but he saw us.
We held his tiny body, feeling his weight in this world…he knew our embrace. We prayed over him...he knew our love. He tucked one hand under his chin and rested...we knew his life was fading.
But he was with us.
Elijah was not expected to live long. Every few minutes, the doctor checked for his heartbeat. And Elijah’s heart, though growing weaker with every check, continued to beat long past what the medical staff had expected.
He was with us, but death was waiting.
Steve was holding Elijah when he whispered, “I think he’s gone.” The room became still and quiet. The doctor examined our precious son, confirming that Elijah’s heart was no longer beating. And then he quietly said, “Time of death, 23:48.” That small, precise sentence cut me to my core...I was undone...forever changed by four devastating words. Everything moved in slow motion. Death was here...my son was gone.
Time of death…time of death…time of death.
How can I describe that moment? Reverence…sorrow…awe…anguish. It is a holy moment to be with someone when they die...a sacred privilege.
I've examined every facet I can think of regarding the moment my son died. I can remember how the doctor's voice sounded...I can remember the look of sorrow on Steve's face. The moment...those words...forever etched in my mind, but the Lord has changed how I view it.
For Elijah, suffering ended. He had endured experimental in-utero surgeries...his lungs had not fully developed...his kidneys had failed. But it all changed at that moment. Elijah moved from his Daddy's arms into the arms of his Father...he was healed.
Time of death healing…time of death healing…time of death healing...23:48
Isaiah 43:1-3
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior."
Happy birthday, my son. I love you, forever and always~
~You can read about Elijah here if you’d like to know more~
~You can read more about my journey with grief here~
No comments:
Post a Comment