Ethan trying to roll over less than a week and a half before he met Jesus
Ethan would be four months and one week old now.
Wow. How much we've missed already.
He would have finished learning how to laugh by now (he was just starting!)... he would be squealing with delight... he would probably be rolling over (he was already so close!)...
His time here on Earth has stopped, yet all the babies around us keep growing older. We love them so, so much, yet it is hard to watch as they reach ages our son never will.
We know Ethan's time as a whole hasn't stopped, that he lives forever in Heaven... but it is amazing how little comfort that brings. I know that probably sounds terrible, and not very "pastor's wife-y" (I just made up that word!) but I'm just being honest.
The truth is, death isn't pretty. It's horrific. God never intended it. It goes back to that thing where God didn't create us to stand over graves--- we were created to live forever without dying first. We're not supposed to feel good about death, and it isn't supposed to be easy. God didn't "get over" losing His Son, and He doesn't expect me to get over losing mine.
I'm so grateful He understands where I'm at.
So far, I can honestly say I haven't been angry at God. Will that anger come at some point? Maybe. But, so far, it hasn't.
At first, I was just too heartbroken to be angry. Now, in addition to that, I have a few reasons not to be. One of the biggest?
"Mama, don't be mad at Him."
The words I believe Ethan would say if he could speak to me today... in the sweet, sweet voice I know he has.
Deep in my soul, I know that is exactly what he would say to me.
It takes my breath away.
And so I say:
"Baby, I'm not."
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