My husband’s supervisor’s newborn grand daughter went to heaven on August 17th. What a hard thing to deal with for those who are left behind. My husband decided he was going to attend the funeral to show support for his supervisor. My husband is a compassionate man, I know this for sure when we watch sad movies; he cries quicker than I do. Still, I was surprised when he announced that he was going to this baby’s funeral. He didn’t know the mother or father, he didn’t know any of the circumstances surrounding the baby’s death. He went because he knew his supervisor was deeply grieving and he felt he should be there to console him. There are many people who work where my husband works, but when he arrived, only one other person from his work site, besides him, had come to the funeral home.
My husband wanted me to go with him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know any of the people involved, but I knew I would grieve for weeks if I came into the presence of so much sadness. I know this because it happened to me recently.
On June 29th, a 28 year old mother of 3, who lives in Clarksville, also went to Heaven. It just so happened that I worked with her mother 10 years earlier. Her daughter was the same age as my son and step daughter. Her daughter was also pregnant at the same time as my daughter . We became “grandmas” just months apart from one another. Her daughter was her only child.
God told me to go to the funeral home to offer support for my co worker, (who I thought when we worked together, never seemed to like me), from long ago. I didn’t want to go. The last funeral I had been to was for my previous husband. I just didn’t think my soul could bear it, going to a funeral home, number one, and coming face to face with someone who had just lost their only child. It turns out that her daughter and my daughter had been in the hospital at the same time. My daughter had been hospitalized with a kidney and blood infection at the same hospital, at the same time, that this young woman came in to the emergency room. This very well could have been my daughter that died.
And so with a potted, pink hydrangea in tow, I obeyed God. I hugged my co worker and prayed for everyone in the room and slipped out as fast as I could.
I ended up crying for weeks afterward and God woke me up often in the night to pray for her and her family. I imagine it must have been at night when the grief was the most raw for them, and that is why God woke me to intercede on their behalf. For whatever reason, God assigned me to care about this situation in a very profound way.
So, right or wrong, I told my husband that this funeral would have to be his “assignment” alone. I was really proud of him that he went. But when he came home I was even more impressed at how the situation had deeply moved him. He said it was the saddest thing ever. He cried all the way home. It made me cry when I saw the baby’s picture on the memorial he showed me.
My husband had homework to do, but wasn’t in the right frame of mind, so he suggested that we go for a ride instead. I grabbed a book, the one pictured above, to read while we rode. I got this book for 50 cents at a thrift store last month when I went home to Wisconsin for a family reunion.
I had on my Walmart sun glasses when I cracked open the book today for the first time while we were riding. The book is a collection of true stories about miraculous “coincidences”. The first one was quite a zinger, so I read it aloud to my husband who was also awed by the circumstances.
And as we were oohing and ahhing over how the ladies lost engagement ring was found years later while fishing, (it was in the belly of a big trout her son caught), it suddenly dawned on me…
I was reading without my reading glasses. Effortlessly. My sunglasses were not prescription. I took them off and continued to read. The words still were not blurry! I pulled my reading glasses from my purse and put them on and looked down at the print. I lifted them up and then down and then up again. It was the same either way. What in the world? I had been at the mercy of reading glasses for 4 years, at least. I remembered earlier in the week, when I tried to read the cooking times on a brownie mix box, and I had to find my reading glasses because I couldn’t be positive what it said, 24, 29?
I look up to see if I could read street signs and license plates. Holy cow!!! I start reading them off from the cars in both lanes in front of me. My husband looks over at me, confused, and asks, “why are you doing that?”
“God has corrected my vision!” He looked on as I read more out of the book without my reading glasses and then alternately looked up to read more plate numbers without my “driving” glasses. He just shook his head and teared up.
My husband attended the funeral today of one of God’s small Miracles. But Eva Annalise was only small in stature. Her life was a very big deal, even if it lasted just moments. The grief that her family was suffering for a life that only breathed on the Earth for a short time was a big deal. My husband crying all the way home in honor of this little girl’s life was a big deal too.
I don’t believe any of God’s Miracles are small…
Be blessed today, all of you. And if you do nothing else today, just dwell on being grateful for every one of the Miracles that surround you.