This memory keeps coming back to me. Usually it means I need to share it.
The night that Rory passed away, Lance and I gathered our boys and went to my parent’s house.
There were a lot of people at the house. In the family room and in the front yard.
A lot of hugs.
A lot of questions.
A lot of disbelief.
A lot of sorrow.
A lot of falling tears.
In the middle of this tragedy, the three boys started to sing a children’s song from our church.
Their voices broke through the sorrow.
Their voices united them in their brotherhood. In their fear. In their strength.
As I was just trying to process what had happened. They were already searching for peace. In the best way they knew how. Music.
These are the words they sang that night:
Heavenly Father, are you really there?
And do you hear and answer ev’ry child’s prayer?
Some say that heaven is far away,
But I feel it close around me as I pray.
Heavenly Father, I remember now
Something that Jesus told disciples long ago:
“Suffer the children to come to me.”
Father, in prayer I’m coming now to thee.
Pray, he is there;
Speak, he is list’ning.
You are his child;
His love now surrounds you.
He hears your prayer;
He loves the children.
Of such is the kingdom, the kingdom of heav’n.
My boys face pain. Everyday.
The life they are living is different now. It’s harder. They carry a burden they can’t quite process and don’t fully understand.
I think back to that moment and tears instantly begin to fall.
They are light.
They are love.
These boys are my hope.