a gathering at Jesus' feet

The week after Chayton's death was such a whirlwind.  Funeral home visits, cemetery plots, meetings, funeral speeches, family visiting, eating, sleeping, not sleeping, crying...

One thing that is tradition for our family is to have the kids get the newborn baby a gift from them.  Callan got Kinsley one, and the two of them got Finn one.  It was only fitting to have the three of them get something for Chayton, too.  So off we went to the toy store as a family.  Let's just say that it was extremely hard to explain to a three-year old that he's going to pick out a toy to give to his dead brother.  Kins didn't understand either.  "Chayton isn't going to play with this, so why are we getting it?"  She was right, but we wanted to include these things in his casket.  The kids each chose a toy that represented them, and Gene and I got a little falcon toy to contribute from us.  (Chayton means "falcon.")  

Another thing on our to-do list that week was choosing a burial plot.  We had been told that the infant section at the cemetery we were going to was right by the street and could be very loud at times.  We were prepared to possibly choose an adult-sized plot farther back if we felt that was needed.  When we arrived at the infant plot section, Gene, my mom and I began to look around at the area.  In the infant section there is a statue of Jesus with little children around him.  Engraved is the verse, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 19:14)

When I looked down at the ground in front of the statue, I saw dozens of small bronze markers.  These marked all of the little children who had gone before Chayton but who were all now joined together in heaven.  Looking at the markers scattered about in front of the Jesus statue was like an earthly representation of what I pictured the children doing in heaven....gathering at the feet of Jesus to worship Him.  I immediately felt at peace picturing Chayton being buried alongside these other infants, in front of the Jesus statue.  I felt that he needed to be physically buried there alongside the other children as I knew his spirit was joined with these children in heaven.  When I looked at Gene I asked him what his thoughts were.  In God's kindness, he felt the same way.  My mom, who accompanied us to this meeting, also felt the same.  It was just a confirmation to me that we were doing the right thing.  

If you've gone through a trial, you know that most of the time it isn't just one trial.  Trials seem to multiple themselves.  Nancy Guthrie puts it this way in her book, Holding on to Hope,  

"Sorrow upon sorrow.  Difficulty and more difficulty.  Does that describe your life?  Why is it that in the middle of a crisis, the car breaks down and the refrigerator stops working?  Doesn't it seem like we should get a pass on the minor irritations of life when we are in the midst of a tragedy?  For many of us it is not just one painful experience or circumstance but troubles that seem to multiply.  It can seem like a conspiracy meant to destroy us.  And we feel beaten down, discouraged.  We wonder if the sun is ever going to come out again.  And despair sets in."

During the week of the funeral it was like Gene and I were getting beaten on every side.  The car was having issues.  I was still recovering from surgery and labor.  And then a phone call...a call explaining that Gene's Gram had just been diagnosed with cancer.  It was like the weight of the world was resting on our shoulders trying to push us down.  

2 Corinthians 4:7-9, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;"  

And so we pressed on.  Pressed on through the meetings.  Pressed on through signing papers.  Pressed on through writing eulogies.  Pressed on through grieving.  All the while PRESSING INTO JESUS who gave us strength when we were weak.  We were afflicted but not crushed.  We were surely perplexed why this would happen to us, but not given over to despair.  Satan could strike us down, but not destroy us.  Our child had been taken, but our Hope had remained. 

{Jesus Statue Photos Credit: Christopher P. Bower Photography}