There are moments in our life that we will never forget for as long as we live.

Mine is the moment that I watched the pinkness drain from his body.  

“He is with Jesus.”  Those are the only words I could utter from my mouth as his heart beat dropped to zero.  And in that moment my baby boy-my life-was gone.  My heart shattered into a million pieces.   

  

I felt a part of me die with you that day, Michael.

I remember how they removed your ET tube, and all the life sustaining equipment from your lifeless body, and how you laid so still in my arms.  So cold.  Yet, so beautiful.  Like a sleeping angel in my arms, covered by my tears which fell on your delicate skin.

And in that moment, all the dreams and plans I had for you; all my hopes, vanished.  

My heart poured out in mourning as I spent my last moments with you. As I tried to remember every detail of your perfectly woven body. 

I couldn’t comprehend it all.  How did we get to this point?

My hands were shaking as I handed you to the funeral personnel, and then as I begged for her to let me hold you one last time.  The last time my eyes would fall on you.  My last touch of your skin.  My last smell of your hair.  “Take it in Allison, don’t let this moment go,” I pleaded with myself.  “I love you Michael.”  “I love you, I love you, I love you.”  It was the only words I could form.  

  
My body was numb.  Grief overtook me like a raging storm.  And I had to deal with the burning question that fired through my mind and pierced my aching heart… But for what purpose? 

Why my child?  Why me?

These are the questions we must deal with when circumstances in life seem unfair and we feel broken and alone.  

When facing the devestating loss of a child, or raising a child with disability or any ailment, we often feel abandoned.  Our faith is tested, and our response to these burning questions reveal a lot about what we believe and who we believe in.  

I will never forget the morning of Michael’s funeral, and watching healthy children running and playing so carelessly before me.  And how bitterness filled my heart as I didn’t understand why Michael wasn’t given the opportunity to live.   

And at the same time my mind wondered to Malachi, whos weak body lie fighting to stay alive in a glass covered isolate.  “His life will be less than quality IF he lives.” The words of that doctor stung like salt to a wound.  In my mind I battled with this reality before me.  

  
In the midst of all my fears, grief, and questions I hide upstairs in my old bedroom that morning at my parents house.  I laid on the floor in a pool of tears until my husband came and found me. And together we gathered the strength to go and speak at Michaels funeral.  To give him the love and respect he so deeply deserved. 

In those days, weeks, and months following Michaels passing, I was in a state of utter despair and darkness. I was numb. Then I was angry. Every part of me ached.

I really wrestled with God over the plans that he choose for my life. In my earnest despair, I longed for answers.

In my search for comfort, I remember turning to the cross.

I began reading Hebrews 5:7-8 and seeing how Jesus, when facing the cross cried out to God the father-who had the power to make another way…but chose not to. And how Jesus submitted to Gods perfect plan.  A plan that included suffering and death.

It helped me to know that even Jesus Christ questioned the plans that God had for him. I knew that I was not alone in my feelings of great anguish.   It was in loneliness that Christ called out “My God my God-why have you forsaken me?” in Mathew 27:46.

But Christ followed through with the plan. A plan that would bring you and me salvation and eternal life.

It is because HE LIVES that it’s not over.  Michael and I will reunite again.  I will smell his hair and feel the warmth of his embrace.  It’s not over.  It’s not over yet. 

You see, Jesus took my place even though I am so undeserving.  He gave it all for me, and for you. 

And when death had a hold of Malachi’s life, Jesus breathed life into him.  He gave him life; abundant life. 

And while the future is still at large hazy and filled with uncertainty, I look to the Father to get me through each day. I don’t have to carry the weight alone.

When I feel overwhelmed with exhaustion because of therapy sessions, evaluations, and doctors appointments. When I feel like I can never take a break because if I am not working  on one of Malachi’s goals and milestones, then he might not have the best chance at life. When intense anxiety and fear of the future sneaks in to steal my joy, I shift my focus to the one who gave it all for me.

I count my blessings, big and small. I feel so blessed that Malachi is starting to eat more.  That while a month ago Malachi would vomit 1-10 times per day, and would gag at the slightest texture of food, that he is now eating several ounces of baby food, and starting to eat table food and drink from a straw.  That he is gaining weight, and has a desire to eat!  That while he has high tone in his legs, he can crawl and climb stairs, and I have no doubt in my mind that he will walk one day.  And while Malachi a few weeks ago never uttered a sound, my boy now says dada with such clarity, and babbles with intent. It may not seem like much to you, but to hear my sons sweet voice brings tears of joys to my eyes.  And even though Malach doesn’t say mama, he melts my heart when he lays his head on me when you say “give mommy love.”  He knows me.  He is doing things I only dreamed he would be doing. I have to remind myself that even though I can feel so full of doubt and anxiety, there is so much to be thankful for.   So much to live for. 

    
 
   
It is through His mighty hand that Malachi is alive. That while he may struggle in some areas of his life, he is progressing. He is thriving, and full of so much joy. I feel like I can see the very presence of God shining through him when he overwhelms me with his sweet and all consuming smile.

   
   
 
I often pray for continued healing over Malachi, but more than anything I want him to know the love of Christ.  To know of his grace, and his mercies. 

We still have a long road and many unanswered questions ahead of us. But through the uncertainties of life and pain, I remember Romans 8:28 when God states that he causes everything to work together for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose.

If you have ever been so consumed with those burning question, and are searching for purpose  and understanding in your pain, I want you to know that you are not alone.

In my search for clarity I will never have all the answers. I don’t know why Michael needed to leave this earth so soon. I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. Why innocent life is shed. And families are torn apart. And while I believe nothing comes into our lives that does not first pass through the sovereign hands of God-I know that we live in a world where sin has taken root and corrupted everything.

We live in a broken world. A world full of sin, sickness, genetic dispositions, and disease. And the world will continue to be broken until the return of our Lord and Savior.

But even in your pain, when life seems to be in ruins, your brokenness can be the pathway to usefulness. In fact, Jesus Christ showed what it meant to be broken and used by God in both painful and beautiful ways when we gave his life on the cross.

And so I kling to his promises. I choose to not focus on the temporal things of this Earth and to keep my eyes on everlasting things.

I also bind with those individuals who have walked similar journeys, who have been there and overcome.  Their support and love gives me so much strength during the moments I feel like a plane that is spiraling out of control.

And finally, I write. Writing for me is my outlet. It is the way I heal and mend those deep wounds. Thank you for letting me share my heart with you-my vulnerabilities and my pain.  We need each other to heal, grow, and love.