"We'll find each other," I told Katrina. We were picking out burial plots for our family. Nobody leaps with excitement about that conversation. We were deliberating whether to secure burial plots for three of us (Kaleb, Katrina, and me) or five (our daughters Kaleigh and Kyra included) of us. We never pondered that question a week before.
My son did not live one more day than God planned; and he did not live one day less either. This truth is one I keep returning to each day as my family and I grieve the death of my son, Kaleb. He was 15 years old. Trials and afflictions marked his life.
Everyone has fears. I'm not talking about encounters with undesirable creatures (spiders, snakes, etc.), but experiences with undesirable realities. It could be losing our job, our spouse filing for divorce, getting cancer, or a child dying. We all have worse case scenarios in our mind that we pray never makes it into our lives.
I woke up at 4am Saturday after a few hours of off-and-on sleep. My bed is a chair that pulls out into cot just feet behind my son's hospital bed. As I laid there, my thoughts raced. Here is my son, unconscious and unable to respond to us, receiving treatment for fungal meningitis. Is he going to beat this infection?
*This post was originally posted on the one year anniversary of Sadie Davis' passing One year ago this day, I received a text from one of our elders at The Journey Church that caused my heart to sink in my chest. "Sadie went to be with the Lord" were the words that met my eyes.... Continue Reading →