Tonight, as I watch one family
prepare to say goodbye, I think about our journey. Our journey that
continues. Our journey that we
celebrated over the weekend. Jonah’s short life. When I saw Dr. Eble out of the
corner of my eye at the Heart Walk, I prepared myself to reintroduce myself to him;
he smiled at me as I approached him, “Wendy!” And he gently hugged me. He asked questions about our life now. He
talked sweetly about Jonah, about our precious little man. He asked how we were
doing now, with genuine concern. He
talked about seeing me get the trophy for Jonah. He was proud that Jonah had
affected our lives in a positive manner and that we, my family (all those dancers over there,) were honoring
him. This man was such an important part of our lives, an important part of our
last 15 minutes with Jonah, and the hours afterwards, that he never left our
side. We’ll never forget him and for him to remember us, warmed my heart. I haven’t talked about it much lately, about
the people that entered my life through Jonah or even how my life changed afterward.
I see many people that become discouraged
and bitter after losing a child. I understand that. You are allowed that and
yes, I had my moments, too. It wasn't all
perfect. It was never perfect. I buried
a child, I never expect perfect. I
remember praying in the weeks of Jonah’s life for his “miracle.” Always, I
wanted Jonah’s miracle to happen. It
only took me a few days to realize that Jonah, himself, was the miracle. He was amazing from the very beginning. Beautiful and courageous. I changed my prayers to healing. I wanted him
to be healed. I never once asked for God’s
Will to be done in Jonah’s life. Never. I don’t know why. Even when they sat us down and told us the
end was near, I prayed for healing. Jonah even had the best day ever. That evening as I went to bed in the waiting room,
I prayed for God’s Will to be done in Jonah’s life - finally. I was ready. Jason was ready, too. He told me he wanted
Jonah to go to Heaven and be with God. I hadn’t been so open to that idea until
I laid down in prayer that evening. I asked for it – God’s Will – in Jonah’s
life. I felt someone near me, and soft whisper, “Wendy.” Dr. Eble was above my
head. “You need to come hold your baby.” I swallowed hard. I had never been
allowed to hold Jonah so I knew it was happening. I shook my head, wanting to
take my prayer back. I was wrong. I wasn’t ready. I take it all back. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. I
ran back there, in time, to hold my baby for the last 15 minutes of his life. I
didn’t know if I could. I remember
repeating to Dr. Eble that I felt numb. I didn’t feel like myself. It felt
strange in the room. I felt out of place. I was overwhelmed. When Dr. Eble
looked at me, his eyes were screaming, “Your boy is being healed right now. In
this room. Healed. Now.” And he was.
While we were grieving, and I prepared to hold him, God was right in
that room, healing Jonah’s broken heart. Dr. Eble had to bring me back to
reality, have me focus and hold my soon-to-be angel. I knew instantly when
Jonah was gone. I knew it. Not so much with my eyes, but the room changed. No machines beeped, his ventilator never
stopped, but I knew I was only holding the shell of my son. I felt hands on my
shoulders, hands holding my head; they were Jason’s and Dr. Eble. I heard
weeping sounds and tears falling onto my shirt, not just from my own eyes but
from the two men hovering behind me. I could only press my lips to his face and
stay in that moment. You never want to leave that moment. The last moment when you feel your child’s
skin warm. You still pray that you’ll
feel his warm breath one last time. You
never give up hope. Never.
People don’t understand my
faith. Some people don’t
understand how I can still love God.
Please remember Jonah was HEALED. He wasn’t healed the way I would have
chosen but his heart is whole now. He
has no pain. His suffering ended. Jonah
is in eternity and he doesn’t know the trials and tribulations that we face
here. Also, I knew in that moment with
Jonah, that I was going to be there, too.
I was going to see my son again someday.
There isn’t anything of this world that is worth seeing him again. I
would not trade eternity with Jonah for anything. When you question my faith, please
understand, not only are you questioning my love of God, but my love for my son.
This last paragraph did not make
losing my son any easier. I still have to grieve. I still fall into despair.
I still have to pray for my sanity and for comfort. Just last week, I was screaming, "I want my son back!" Several days, I cried my eyes out for him. I stared at the shirts I had made for him, and lost all control of my emotions.
But I always know there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Even the most terrible events
always contain hidden blessings. When
you count your blessings day by day, you become a person who is filled with
gratitude. Being in a state of gratitude leads to peace of mind, humility and
harmony. 'Thank you' is one of the most powerful words in the world. When you
are grateful, you become a giver...you give compliments, you give blessings,
you give appreciations, you give your time, you give love, you give kindness
and most of all you give yourself. You’re very best.
I hope you all know how special you are to me. If you’re reading this, thank you. Thank you for thinking of us, taking time out of your life, praying for us and for always, remembering our son. And always, thank you, for your kind words…I received them tonight at church. She caught me off guard and I couldn’t carry out the pastor’s mission but thank you!
*And remember – next year – you’re walking in the Heart Walk with me in Little Rock. I’m taking everyone. Jonah’s Journey set the bar high this year and we’ll continue to do so!*
Pray for Liam Lyon!
Always pray for my little buddy,
Wyatt. He turns a year old next weekend – he has a new heart! Wyatt the
Warrior! I love him!
