Its a day after the funeral for the 3 month old baby. The tiny little coffin haunted my dreams last night and my thoughts today. It was so small. Only one person was needed to carry the coffin. It was white maybe a foot and a half by two feet.
It was an open casket. The baby looked like she was sleeping or not real. I couldn't look at her too long, nor did I want too. I thought of what it would be like to loose one of my own. Titus has been sick and I had a real fear last night, and held him extra close, because I now know that death comes for all ages.
The mother was hysterical. There was someone who needed to be carried in, and they placed into the nursery. It was a dreadful scene. The baby's older brother who may have been 2 or 3 was hysterical on his uncle's lap.
There was the contrasting messages in the funeral of hope in the gospel and a vague secular message that time heals all wounds. Either one could have their tears of this experience wiped away by Christ at the end of all things, or just kinda endure.
The grave site was a small shallow grave. The digger put the coffin single handed into the grave. Such a tiny little coffin. There were so many people at the grave, in fact there were many people at the service.
Now I'm left with images. That little coffin burned into my head. My heart breaking for this little one who had only begun to smile.
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That is incredibly hard to fathom. . our little ones leaving the world, but at the same time because of how fast tis life is it is also nice to know that Jesus is by the child's side and will reunite the mother with the baby if they have given their life over to Christ. That woman is shedding her tears at Jesus' feet and He loves her and knows her pain. I am crying thinking of such things.
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