The dogwood tree stands, arms stretching over the small grave where Williams body lays. I know the bones beneath the dirt are just that, bones, bones of my flesh but as the dogwood blooms it brings about a mental reminder of the season two years ago.
The dogwoods were also in bloom the days before I laid Williams body in the dirt of our farm. The fertile ground that has harvested life and food now holds a tender piece of my heart, forever.
I walk the path, pass his grave, almost every single day and I never tire of just sitting and remembering the tiny boy I call William.
Can all this pain really add up to something useful to bringing Glory to God?
Will I ever get to the point where I don't want to cry when I set an extra place at our table and I think William could be here? Will I always have to remind myself that William is sitting at a far bigger table than mine?
If I could change the ending to our story, would I?
Or will I continue to walk out the ending He chose for me? Really walk it out and be thankful while walking through the dogwoods? Remembering the gifts even when I can't see the gift giver? I will walk this story, being thankful that the little boy I only knew through kicks and hiccups was born to me and handed to me wrapped in a blue blanket still and without life. His little boy face reminding me so much of his brothers before him.
The Lord stood at the end of my bed that morning and said "William, come forth" and he did.
Be Thankful for that?
Thankful that God allowed me the privilege of being Williams mother.
Some women never get to be a mother or feel life inside of them. Some women never feel the kicks of their unborn babes. I got to hold William for 30 weeks and as my belly grew bigger I would rub and talk to him and share so much love with him.
He made his farewell being covered in his mothers love, I assure you.
Well prayed for and well loved.
I still see his tiny frame and his features I could out line in my memory until the day I die.
A mother never forgets their own child. I have placed his picture wrapped in that blue blanket next to all the other children in our foyer and I acknowledge his presence in our life. I acknowledge that I'm his mom.
I remember to be Thankful for the days I carried him.
I remember to be Thankful for the days after when God carried us.
Yes, the dogwoods are in bloom and they continue to be a gentle reminder
that I can trust a gentle Savior who knows all endings to all of our stories and
I can trust even when I don't understand the story tellers ending.
William Charlie White, March 25th 2009
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