Zoe, a beautiful baby girl I have come to know and love (electronically) died today of Krabbe disease. Sabrina and Peter, her parents, have had the horrendous experience of waiting, and watching their precious daughter slowly die these last several months, each breath wondering if it will be her last. Then it happened, her last breath came. It came today. And they were left holding the lifeless frame of their sweet Zoe…and soon her body will disappear too. It is unimaginable!
But I can imagine it. I see it. I feel it. I know it. My own heartache envelops their ache and my sorrow increases.
The world will keep turning as Sabrina and Peter grieve the loss of their precious child. And all of us who have lost our children will continue each day in our heartache, trying to engage a culture that does not know how to engage us, the grieving parent.
So I cling to Hope.
I cling to the hope that our children are more alive than we can imagine, in the presence of God Almighty, the God of all Hope. I picture Zoe, for the first time, experiencing how it feels to walk and run and play…
My friend Jamie gave us a book soon after Judson died that superimposes Jud’s face onto images that depict him playing with characters from Sesame Street. As I was reading the book to Jessie, this page jumped out at me:
May it actually be that Zoe and Judson are, in fact, dancing in heaven together—laughing with glee as they leap and jump and whirl!
Zoe’s name means life and I trust today that she passed from death to blessed life, because of the life and death of Jesus.
This is the hope to which I cling.