A Little Girl

When you are 10, things should be looking up.  You can read pretty well and you understand the hows and the whys of a lot of things in life.  There is so much to look forward to when you are 10.  You are more independent when you are 10; you are beginning to have your own thoughts and opinions about lots of things. 

But for one little girl, reaching 10 meant an end to it all.  In a brief moment when she started seizing, it all began to unravel.  She was taken to the hospital and that followed with an MRI or a CT scan of her head.  No one was prepared for what they found.  She had advanced cancer in her brain and had only days to life.  Days.

A week after the diagnosis, Julia was gone, this beautiful child with blond hair and a captivating smile.  Her parents are going through an agonizing time in their lives and need all of our prayers to get over the anger and hurt they feel.  In one word from one of their friends, they are "devastated."

So today and every day that you can, think about Julia's parents and say a prayer for them, for their healing, for peace, for acceptance, for God's love to wash over them. 

The grief that comes from an event like this child's unexpected death is marked by certain certainties.  One is that you cannot think properly.  You can't sleep well.  You cannot go through more than a couple of minutes without the grief hitting you again and again.  You can't look anywhere around you without thinking about this child and how much she meant to you.  You can't enjoy anything anymore.  You can't laugh.  You can't find anywhere that is comforting, safe, peaceful.  You can't talk about this child without crying uncontrollably but the crying doesn't seem to help.  You can't believe that at Christmas time, you were oblivious to everything and had no idea that you could get blindsided like this -- and that this past Christmas would be her last.  You wish you'd taken more pictures.  You wish you'd told her how much you love her that many times more.  You wish it would have been you instead.  Life has no more richness, fullness.  And I could go on.

So please remember the Norris family in  your prayers, because the kind of help that they need is beyond our human capabilities.  They need God. 

The words from the Bible that bring me solace are Jesus' words.  "I will wipe away every tear.  See, I make all things new."

Probably because I'm getting older now and I'm about three-quarters of the way down the runway, the promise of heaven gives me the hope and comfort that I need.  And yet, it isn't enough for me to feel that when my time comes I might be given that glimpse.  I want all of my family there too.  I want everyone to know the love of God in their lives, the healing, the joy, the hope, the faith that will sustain us.

So with all of that to ponder, have a good Thursday, and I'll talk to you tomorrow.