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Preciousness of moments, sweet knowledge of time,
Hold our angel in my arms and imagine his spirit shining!
Behold the magnified grace, his small body at rest,
Knowing that our Lord is holding him like my hands are the nest of his body.
Lush perfect in our minds, the substance of our hearts,
The moment he was conceived our love affair had its best start,
Beautiful little man of ours who blew us away
Now he’s finally with us and his race is over, completely.
Finest little fingers and toes showing God’s finest work
His ears, his eyes, his belly, perfection, no sign of a quirk,
Muscular little thighs with potential beyond work it seems
His calves will never burn, his long feet will never make dreams come true.
Bless us for just a few short months, the best of heaven for our ad,
Hold him, kiss him and enjoy him, he will lie with us today,
His condition was far too challenging somehow far too good for earth
We find it as we hold him, his life was always of a heavenly birth!
We covet the minute and defend the hour with might,
His delicate little body is ours, but his spirit has fled
Physical comfort is our foil right now as we take in what can be
Just fleeting moments of sadness, soon we won’t see him anymore.
***
“It is good.” As those words to the song rang out from the obstetrician’s phone in the theater, tears of longing for eternity streamed down our faces. It’s good because it’s not. Because we can’t fix it, only God in His grace can.
We longed to be with our little one—both to know his listless body and to know him as God alone does now. We got what we longed for.
Our cherub, Nathanael Marcus, was delivered lifeless, yet in our estimation he was the essence of God’s work: a gift (Nathanael is Hebrew for “given of God”) and destined ever to be an eternal being (Marcus is Hebrew for “shining”; of eternal purity).
Washing the cheese smear from Nathanael’s hair and skin proved a difficult task, but not without purpose. As I gently stroked his skin with soap, God gave me the opportunity for tactile stimulus and response. The longer I washed him, the more I held him, the more I watched my everlasting wife—after the cesarean—stroke his head, the more I saw him as God does: a gift to us and the world, though always determines an eternal being, like all of us.
We are so grateful for the opportunity to be Nathanael’s parents. He will always be ours. For those who love us, it will always be yours too. Above all, he belongs to God now, and we wait for him to finally greet us when we are called home.
© 2014 SJ Wickham.
As I typed the words of the last paragraph, I held Nathanael in my left arm.
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