Monday, July 30, 2007

What does Isabel know?

I was thinking the other day that as sad as I feel about Isabel, she is not dead. We had a funeral. We buried her body, but she is alive, just not here on earth with us. I wonder what Isabel knows now? She is in Heaven with God the Father and Jesus and everyone else. Think about it. She could visit with Noah, or Moses or my favorite, King David.

I don't pray to Isabel or think that Isabel is my guardian angel. That is not Biblical. God created the angels, and He created people. They are apples and oranges. They are different. People don't become angels when they die. The Bible says in Hebrews 9:27 "Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment"



My grandma lost a 9 month old baby. That must have been so painful. How nice it must have been for her to see him in Heaven. And I like to think that Grandma and my cousin Kim's little boy, Jacob met with Isabel and told her about the family she never had the chance to know, not on earth anyway. But Isabel is in Heaven, she must know so much more than we do. Surely, she must know about us, about how we love her, and that we are sad. When I start to feel regrets about how I handled our brief time with her, I fret about what I didn't do, or what I should've done, I console myself with this thought: she knows.

God will tell her.

God will tell her all the things that she needs to know about us. And certainly she will know she is loved, and that is all that really matters to me.


My aunt shared a passage in Isaiah 65 with me. Someday, when God creates a new Heaven and earth, the heartache and sorrows we experienced here will be forgotten, we won't remember the pain.

For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth;
And the former shall not be remembered or come to mind.

But be glad and rejoice forever in what I create;
For behold, I create Jerusalem as a rejoicing, And her people a joy.

I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and joy in My people;
The voice of weeping shall no longer be heard in her, Nor the voice of crying.

No more shall an infant from there live but a few days,
Nor an old man who has not fulfilled his days;
For the child shall die one hundred years old,
But the sinner being one hundred years old shall be accursed.

They shall build houses and inhabit them;
They shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.

They shall not build and another inhabit;
They shall not plant and another eat;
For as the days of a tree, so shall be the days of My people,
And My elect shall long enjoy the work of their hands.

They shall not labor in vain, Nor bring forth children for trouble;
For they shall be the descendants of the blessed of the LORD,
And their offspring with them.

It shall come to pass That before they call, I will answer;
And while they are still speaking, I will hear.

The wolf and the lamb shall feed together,
The lion shall eat straw like the ox,
And dust shall be the serpent’s food.
They shall not hurt nor destroy in all My holy mountain,”
Says the Lord.


Isaiah 65: 17-25

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

dear Debra:

i'm really not anonymous, this is elizabeth, with whom you shared your story tonight... i just don't have a blog of my own and it was the only way to write...

thank you. your little girl is beautiful--as are your daughter, Sophia (hope i spelled her name correctly), and your two sons, whose names i don't know.

you have a very beautiful family.

your blog is beautiful and i love the beautiful pictures of Isabel Hope; she is soooo beautiful; so delicate, so fragile.

i remember you as you were knitting Isabel's or Sophia's hat. i remember your quietness, your seriousness--and your manner...

i sat by you at least one night--and i "joyed" in your description of your little girl at home, Sophia. i don't recall that you mentioned your little one... ...on "her way..."

but, in thinking over, at least the two nights i was in your presence, i sense her...

i wish i could have been there for you, in those hours--

your braveness, your perseverance, your pressing forward in such difficult hours...

i love your little girl--and thank you for sharing her with us tonight; for sharing your grief, your heart.

i am humbled.

i am well acquainted with griefs, with loss...

i'm so grateful that somehow--and i know your relationship with Christ (and i love your desire to become like Him, "Christ like" I believe were your words to describe the intent of your heart), "for in Him we live and breath and have our being," that through all you’ve been through, what you’re going through, you are here, here for your little girl, for your two sons, for your husband, for Christ...

and, too, that you are finding ways to “be there” for yourself…, this blog, your photography, your writing, your knitting, coming to knit night at Boersma's

and, i believe God is carrying you and your family--even in this…

i pray for your wellbeing, you in your mother's heart, your loss--and, you're absolutely right, it matters not that you have three remaining children, Isabel is still Isabel, independent, individual, precious, treasured, special, just like your others..., and as irreplaceable.

part of your family...

and, please, feel free to include her as such..., she will never go away from your family unit, ever...

ever.

cherish her there, share her there, honor her there--for in doing so, you will honor not only her, but you children here and now as they grow and develop.

among my losses, is my baby brother, Brian Stephen, who also died following his birth. he went on to be with the Lord in 1958, but he has been in my heart every day since...

and, i love his name. it's like "holy water" to me... (my roman upbringing!!!), or like "the oil of Lebanon," as the psalms describes wellbeing between siblings...

and, i still grieve his loss. that's not pathetic, or morose, or otherwise; i see it as a triumph, that his little life meant so much to me, that 49 years since his leaving us, he is still so important that I still grieve him--regardless of the fact that i know he is with the Lord...

after 49 years i have come to know some of the "whys"--though not all of the mysteries of his short stay here, but of his personhood & imprint on my life, i have never ever quit missing him--

nor ceased to honor him, wonder regarding him, and on one occasion "being given a glimpse" into who he had become as of the year--1986 (when my father died and saw him in a dream—though it wasn’t until awaking i realized what God has shown me, what i had been given to see:

--and, he wasn't a baby anymore, but a beautiful young man... welcoming my father...

into heaven..., together with my mother...).

Brian, like Isabel, was cherished, cradled, loved and entrusted... to a power greater than all of us...

...and remains a constant in my life. i miss him, miss knowing him; he is in Heaven, having blazed the way for all his other siblings, having gone before us...

and, he'll be there, probably more wise than those of us who remain…

my love, honor, prayers and support, Debra.
sincerely,

elizabeth

Debra said...

Thank you Elizabeth.