To a Sweet Baby Girl

Dear Sadie Margaret,

I'm angry right now. Not at you, little one. At life, and circumstances, and death, and--if I'm honest--at God. Because this isn't supposed to be how it turns out. You're supposed to go home to your brothers and sister. You're supposed to keep growing big and strong, and we're supposed to get to keep you in the church nursery, and take vows along with the entire church family at your baptism. To say that we will help your family as they guide, love, and even discipline you a little. We're supposed to get to watch you grow into toddlerhood, commiserate with your Mama and Daddy at how fast time is flying by. There are supposed to be funny stories to be heard over dinner and proud moments to celebrate together, like with your siblings and our kiddos.

But there aren't, and maybe there won't be, and I'm just angry. I know that if you leave us, you'll be going where there's no more pain. I know you'll get to, as your Mama said, "look at Jesus face-to-face with those big, brown eyes." I know you'll look up at our heavenly father, and say, "Daddy, I want a pony." And he'll say, "Here, sweetheart. Have five ponies."

And I know that it's better to be with Jesus, and that I'm terribly selfish to want you to stay, and that the Holy Spirit is convicting me even now. But I am just so angry, and sad, and helpless. And I think that God agrees that death and pain are something to be angry about. And I think that someday that all of us who love you will get to a point where we aren't so angry at God anymore, but I'm sure not there right now.

I'm angry for your family. I'm angry for the thousands of people around the world who have been praying for you and cheering you on. I'm angry for all the little girls and boys who have been praying their sweet, earnest prayers: "Dear God, please help Sadie Margaret get better. Please heal her."

And I'm trying to focus on that ultimate healing that all God's children are ultimately headed toward. I'm trying to rejoice that maybe you'll never really know sin or depression or even anger. That what fear and pain your little body and soul have gone through will be replaced with a peace and joy and life that I can't even really imagine.

But did I mention that I'm so angry?

Perhaps focusing on being grateful for you will help. And I am so very grateful. How many saints have been driven to their knees in prayer over these past months? How many of us have been strengthened by seeing God's incredible sustaining of your family? How many people, that we may never even know in this life, has the Holy Spirit spoken to while they watch your Mama and Daddy celebrate what a little fighter you are?

Your Daddy shared a sweet thought: that even if you leave us soon--someday, how long the line will be in heaven to see you. So many of us, even as we joyously greet our own lost children and other loved ones, will run to see you and join you in basking in the light of the glory of our God on his throne! And we'll say, "Sadie Margaret--you're healed!" And you'll say, "Of course, dear one. Welcome home."

Striving to choose gratitude,
a Loving Aunty