Some of us, like my sweet son, J, are born with big
hearts. Others need "stretching
experiences" to help our hearts grow and learn. If you couldn't guess, I am one of the
latter. And J's genetically large heart
has helped me to discover the depths of my own soul.
Last Christmas was a Christmas unlike any other. It was a time spent pondering, aching,
praying, and preparing the best we could for tiny J's open heart surgery, which
was scheduled just a few weeks after Christmas.
My heart was full of a million new emotions which I cannot even begin to
describe. I felt longing, anxiety, fear,
peace, joy in the moment like never before, and gratitude, but most poignant
was the ache I felt for my child – the ache of dreams that would not be
realized, of a future different than the one I'd always envisioned, of the
possible chance of losing this child in his youth. Even though none of these were yet a reality,
I felt like something great had been lost.
When I opened up all the boxes of Christmas decorations, I
discovered a simple ornament I had bought at the dollar store the year before,
thinking I might give it to one of my children sometime. It was a blown glass angel holding a
heart. I felt this ornament was a love
note from the Lord, as He had foreseen where I would be that Christmas. I
knew that that ornament was for J. I
gave it to him for Christmas with a little note:
"This angel
ornament is my special gift to you this Christmas, as a reminder that you are
an angel to your family with a big heart.
It is also to remind you that angels will be with you as you go through
your surgeries on your precious little heart.
I love you, and your family loves you!
Merry Christmas!"
When all was said and done and J had recovered from his
surgery, I realized that this new stretching of my heart has given me empathy –
feelings I never could have understood unless I experienced them myself. And now, every time I hear of a parent
grieving for a child, I feel some of that same ache I felt (and sometimes still
feel) for J. Over the months, I kept
thinking of and praying for those sweet families with babies with heart issues,
and the phrase "friends of the heart" has continually come into my
mind. I feel like our babies' hearts have stretched our hearts and bound them together in love. More than that, I feel like this experience is something that needs to be shared, so other hearts can be touched by the goodness of the Lord.
This Christmas, I found a new tender ornament of an angel
holding a heart, and I knew it was the one I wanted to share with these special
"friends of the heart." Some
of these friends have grieved more deeply than I can comprehend as their little
angels have been called Home. Others,
like us, have been blessed with the gift of another year of life. Still others are waiting, worrying, praying –
in the same position we were in last Christmas.
This post is just lovely. Makes me want to cry. Thanks for writing I so we'll.
ReplyDeleteLove the sweet blog post. You're such a great writer! I look forward to many more...
ReplyDelete