"Yes," I replied.
It was then that the profound love of both my mother and of God finally came into focus as she leaned in, put her hand on my cheek and said, "That's how much your momma loves you." She knew how desperately my heart needed to hear those words. She continued on, "And my precious girl, God loves you even more than that." Those words of Kit Bautsch changed my life.
Very few things change our lives like becoming a parent does. We learn a whole new language we seem to have forgotten - You need to poopoo in the potty. We learn how very little sleep we can actually function on. We learn new ways to teach math and reading. We have a plethora of practical applications of what patience and self control really look like. But perhaps the hardest thing we learn is what life looks like to have these tiny pieces of our hearts walking around outside our bodies. Our joy is multiplied with theirs. Our excitement can't be contained anymore than theirs can. Our anxiety finds new heights. Our heartache, new lows.
Tonight, I got to spend time with a dear friend who has lost one of those pieces.
I've often thought about what I would do in that situation, how I would ever be able to go on again, and if I would be able to express the same faith I've clung to my entire life. But I watched her, through grief and tears, repeat the same thing to everyone she greeted - God is so good, mijo.
In 2006, I sat in an adult Sunday School class for a few months. At the time, the study was about the book of Job. A few things stuck out to me during that study -
1. Job's friends SUCKED. I mean, in the end, they really weren't great friends at all. Maybe this one guy a little but still. Being a friend in moments of tragedy most often means just being present. Words complicate and placate. They come out all wrong and fall short of healing. Being present, all there - that's what people really need.
2. Job was patient until about chapter 3. Don't believe me? Check it out. There's really nothing marvelous about "The patience of Job".
3. We are free to question God. He welcomes it. After all, every relationship must be built on honesty and He already knows anyway. When you do though, be prepared for Him to answer. "Where were you when I told the waters to stop?" ALWAYS pulls me up short when my attitude is bigger than the words that come out of my mouth.
But perhaps what has stuck with me the most --
4. In big ALL CAP letters, written in pencil, at the end of the book are the words, "How would our view of God change if He didn't restore Job? Would He still be good?"
Last weekend, my friend reached out to me to let me know that her younger son was sick. He was very sick. I, like so many others, began praying that God would use the drs, nurses, and the medicines to heal Albert. I often want to kick myself for not being specific enough in the words that I use. HERE. That's what I meant, make him better here.
But tonight, I found myself standing in a funeral home with my friend. I watched as so many littles walked in with their families to say goodbye to their coach. I watched as teachers, friends and family gathered to comfort one another. I watched as his former Army Sergeant, who flew in from out of state, took a packed polishing kit and diligently polished all of the buttons, the belt buckle and the medals that hung on his dress blues. I watched a different person - a complete stranger - hug his mother with only the words of, "He met me on the street and he changed my life." But mostly, I watched his mom, my friend.
I watched the grace with which she met every person who came to say goodbye. I watched the gratitude expressed with each gift she was given. I watched her embrace strangers and console them. I watched her walk over to Brian and me, time after time to say, "Did you see that? That was God." and explain the part of her conversation we missed.
My friend, mi hermana, my Millie stood there in the middle of the darkest, deepest hole any parent finds themself in and still was actively looking for God.
As parents who follow Jesus, there is no greater concern, no desire so deep, no longing so real as the one that our children love God. That's it. Everything else is temporary. But that our children's hearts reflect God's heart, that is our lifelong goal in parenting.
Albert loved God. He loved people. It didn't matter who you were or where you came from. It didn't matter what you had or if you had nothing. "He was his happiest coaching..." Loving on even the littles.
As I watched mi hermana embrace those who came to offer condolences, tell stories and share tears over the "corazon de mi corazon", the term she often uses for her children and grandchildren, something amazing happened. Millie was the embodiment of "corazon del corazon de Dios" - heart of the heart of God. "If even one person comes to know God because of the loss of my son, all this will be worth it..." she repeated over and over again. All I could do was nod and sob.
Honestly, I'm not really sure, if faced with the same loss, my heart would be able to say those things. But my Millie. Her view of God didn't change when He didn't restore Albert HERE. She not only believes that God is still good, she told everyone who would listen.
I can only imagine that as she falls asleep tonight, Millie will hear from her heavenly Father - Ah, mija, corazon de Mi corazon.
