Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Ruby Jean...

Oh, baby girl.
You slipped away so quietly, exiting your broken tent and breaking the bonds of this existence, exchanging it all for your eternal home. It kills me not knowing the exact moment your spirit soared and your little heart ceased its striving. I can't bear the thought of such a miracle of healing and transformation occurring in our very midst...and we never blinked an eye. Worse yet, I can't bear the thought that you'll never see the face of your father, or feel the warm touch of your mother. You'll never witness the joy and laughter of your brothers or experience the rich, comforting soil of Family. Flowergirls, hair-brushing, Easter dresses, Daddy-dates, snuggling, secret-telling, joyful tears and heartbreaks.... all these have slipped through my fingers. I had it, and it slipped away so quietly.

I petitioned our Father for a miracle. By now you understand far better than I just how able He truly is. But His will is now known, and I dare not suggest that you are a tragedy.

Baby girl, you are, in every sense of the word, a true success. Our Father, in His infinite wisdom and transcendent knowledge, has worked a miracle. You came to us, as quietly as you slipped away. We rejoiced over you, dreamed over you and prayed over you. And even in the face of uncertainty and heartbreak, He blessed us through you. Every kick, every movement and every ultrasound with you was a joy and a testimony to the nature and wonder of our Father. He used you to test our faith, enrich our love, purify our motives and focus our affection. Baby girl, you have worked more in my heart than perhaps anyone else I know. You have taught Caleb and Jack, at such young ages, to turn to our Father in times of sorrow. You have taught your mother how to faithfully endure. I can't say for all the others that you have touched and inspired around the world.

I thank God for you. I'm a better man because of you. And I love you.

I know now that our Father has called you home. And I could not ask for anything more. You were only a blessing and now you are truly home. I don't know the day or the hour, but I know that I will go to you. Someday. I know I'm working to store up my treasure in Heaven, but right now, I don't much care about that. Right now, I've got a Ruby, and you and I have much to talk about. I love you.

1 comment: