But today, I just can't let blogging go.
I need to tell you two stories.
1st Story
The day Ethan was born:
Jeff and I were called around 4am to let us know that Ethan's birthmom was headed to the hospital. Jeff and I were invited to come and be at the hospital. We arrived as quickly as possible and began pacing the floor. We watched nurses file in and out of the delivery room. But when the birthmom's dad was 'kicked' out of the delivery room, we knew it was time. The door was shut, we huddled around the door with grandpa and waited. . . . and then I heard it. My baby's cry!
In that moment I had the most profound and primal desire to run to my child. It was as if I knew Ethan already. That feeling I had, in that moment, has never been similar to any other 'crying' baby I've heard. I know that my reaction to Ethan's cry was a remembrance - a remembrance that I knew him before now. It was a testament to me that there was a time before this, a time when I knew and loved him.
2nd Story
My friend, Kim, died a year ago:
After Kim passed away, and before her funeral, I began to feel very strongly that I should speak at her funeral. I avoid most public gatherings and to feel that I should speak at one, was very unusual for me. Plus, I didn't know her family that well and I didn't think they knew me. It was not like I could approach them and let them know I was to speak at the funeral.
One evening, the feeling was completely overwhelming and undeniable. I didn't know what to do. I thought I was going to burst apart! It wasn't but 2 hours later that the call came for me to speak at Kim's funeral. The relief was immediate. The thoughts came clearly to me that Kim was directing what she wanted to have happen at her funeral. It was a testament to me that after the time we have here, there is another time/place. Kim was participating from that place in making her plans happen.
Today, as I visited Kim's grave I remembered these two stories. They are the basic and yet most forceful examples I have that I existed before I came here and that I will continue even when I leave this life.
It's not everyday that I get all 'testimony' - in fact, I typically avoid it.
But today, I feel it strongly.
I miss my friend - but I'll see her again.
10 comments:
Beautiful picture of Kim. You, simply, AMAZE me.
Aw, Wendy! That made me cry! My sister is adopting soon-- the birth mom is due in 3-4 weeks. I'm going to have her read this. So sweet!
Beautiful thoughts, Wendy. The juxtaposition of the two experiences wove together so perfectly in how they both made you feel an assurance of a greater plan. God is so cool.
Thanks for sharing! I got chills reading it, the Spirit testifying to me that I too believe that is true. Thanks!
Thanks Wendy. Somehow Kim always knew how to get quite the party together and our family (I am interjecting for almost the WHOLE family . . . as whole as we get)has always been deeply appreciative for your friendship/everything you did for Kim.
P.S. I am jealous you made it through without falling apart . . . *sigh*
Much love,
-Trent
OH Wendy, that really made me cry. thank you for sharing that. i loved it.
Thanks for sharing such a personal experience and testimony. It was what I needed today.
Thanks, Wendy. I love you. I think you are wonderful. Have I told you that lately?! Your thoughts were just beautiful.
I couldn't agree more with everyone else! Thank you for sharing. I still remember your talk at her funeral and what it meant to everyone, probably the most for Kim. She definitely taught us a lot about life...I sure love ya!
Beautiful.
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