Hope
He came down the aisle carrying the tiny white casket himself. There was a tender, gentle strength in how he brought it to the front and set it down unable to just let go and leave it right away. That was his son, and yet not. He knew full well his son was truly alive with the Father. I think that’s what enabled him to step back, and take his seat. He had hope. What unfolded was a beautiful, gut wrenching, worshipful service to honor a life that never got to live outside the womb, and to honor a Savior who makes it possible for all of us to live joyfully someday beyond this shattered world and these broken bodies. I watched them walk in. I stared at that tiny white casket. I watched them exit. All the while I sat there, the memories and feelings flooded back. Only instead of being the one up front, I was now part of the mass thinking if we could have done absolutely anything to have spared this family the pain of going home without their baby, we would have done it. ...
