Hope From A Baby

A year ago I had no idea that a disease called T18 existed. I became aware only after it was diagnosed in the family of some friends. The little I have learned about this disease stabs me in the heart and becomes an indescribable pain. The challenges my wife and I face with our mentally challenged adult son, pale in comparison. The hopes and aspirations of these young couples are crushed with this diagnosis.

Maybe at this point you are wondering why I would write of something so sad at a time when joy and hope fills the air. One reason is to remind you that joy and hope is not in the heart of everyone around us. Many dread Christmas for one reason or another. This year, others will experience their first loss of one kind or another. Another reason is to tell you that so far, of all the stories I have read, I have not found one couple (family), that has not experienced a deepening of their faith in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Not one! This disease has brought them to a deeper, stronger, and more peaceful faith. This faith is the foundation that carries them through the most difficult time any one of us could face, the loss of a child.

In a way, Jesus was one of them. He too, at birth, was born with a death sentence. His disease, not T18 of course, was to carry the sins of mankind to the cross. By being born, by living a sin-free life, and suffering the physical pain of the cross and the weight of our sin, He offers hope to all of us who accept His sacrifice. Hope when the darkness of night envelopes us. Hope when we are afraid. Hope when the pain is so great we collapse under the weight.

Jesus left us a to do list until that day that he comes for us. On that list is his command to tell everyone we know about His love and the hope of living with Him eternally. We don't tell because we are afraid, but these little babies, these little ones who have not yet learned to speak, bring us along on their journey and tell the Good News of the one who offers hope to us all.

In my last post I told you of little Maxson. His dad wrote him a letter and read the letter to him and those in attendance at the funeral. The last paragraph may explain better what I have been trying to get across to you.

"Although we have felt the loss of a lifetime we would not trade the time we had with you for anything. I am confident that we will hold you again, it's just the time that we have left here, that separates us from you. We look forward to that day..."

So, as we gather with our families to celebrate the birth of Jesus and look around the room wishing we could see those that should be there but aren't, remember, it is just the time we have left here that separates us from them.

From us here at the view from the rocking chair, we pray that the greatest gift you receive this Christmas season the real gift of the baby Jesus, hope, peace, and eternal life.

Merry Christmas!!!

Maxon's Family

Keeping up with Magdalena's blog, made me aware of yet another family dealing with T18. Little Maxon was born Friday morning at 7:32AM and passed away at 10:15 that same morning. My heart breaks each time I read of these precious families and their babies, but I am encouraged by their common reliance on God's faithfulness in their lives.

I wish I could write each of them and offer an explination why God chose them for what is a very difficult time in their lives. To do so would be a presumption that I know what God has planned. I guess the best I could say is; God has promised His presence.

God has made that promise, not only to these young families dealing with an awful diagnosis, but to all of us. So during this season of Joy when there are many who are sad, remember them in your prayers and when you can, remind them, "God has promised His presence".

If you would like to read Maxon's journey click on his name and it will take you to his blog site.