25 days. This is how time is now measured. 25 days since our precious daughter took her final breath. 25 days since my wife and I were hurled into an unfamiliar territory…one we never wanted to experience. 19 since we laid her body in the ground. I know that such measuring will one day cease. Days will merge into weeks, weeks into years, until eternity one day renders time obsolete. As for now, however, days suffice.
While time can be easily measured, the grace of God cannot. It would be impossible to relay the depth of grace that we have witnessed over the last three weeks. I do not think it beneficial to always try to see the good God brings from tragedy, but I thank God that He sometimes makes it abundantly clear. It has, for instance, encouraged many to see the way the local church body has responded to these events. The familial love that we have for one another has been on high display, and many have been moved by it. The Gospel has been preached to unbelieving family members and friends, and they have seen it lived out simultaneously. We even have hope that we will see conversion directly correlated to Savannah Grace’s death. My wife wrote about much of this on her blog before stating the exact point I am about to make. If it were up to me, none of this would have come about. Not by these means. I would trade everything I’ve mentioned to have my daughter back. This reminds me of how amazed I’ve always been by the beginning of Romans 9. It astounds me that Paul would be willing to be accursed for the sake of his kinsman. I love people and want desperately for them to know Christ, but I’m not willing to trade for it the mortal life of my daughter…much less my own Salvation.
The unity of the body and proclaiming of the Gospel are not the only good results to have been made evident. My wife and I, according to the experts and their statistics, should be growing apart. Instead, it seems that our relationship is sweeter and closer than it has ever been. (Please do not mistake this for foolish pride. I understand that we are only a few weeks in and that trials will undoubtedly come. I have confidence, however, that Savannah’s passing will have a unifying effect on our marriage overall. This confidence is based not on anything within Ashley or myself, but solely upon the grace of Christ.) Furthermore, Ash and I have been able to experience the deep love our extended families. We have been reminded of friendships that we had begun to undervalue and take for granted. The fact that my wife is writing her aforementioned blog is itself an evidence of God’s grace. My hesitancy to blog stems from laziness, hers is from something entirely different. My wife struggles with opening up to people, even ones she knows well, so the fact the she is writing so intimate a blog causes my heart to rejoice. We have also been made aware of the importance of sound doctrine. It is comforting for us to understand that there is design in our suffering. Our daughter’s death did not catch God by surprise, nor was it the best option from a panel of limited possibilities. We may never- even in eternity- understand the full breadth of God’s plan, but we rest assured in the knowledge that He is glorified through Savannah Grace’s life and death. Such knowledge does not take away the bitterness of losing her, but it does produce a sweet aftertaste. We also haven’t struggled overtly with anger toward God, as we understand that any comfort or blessing we have is undeserved. Ash and I can cling to such truths in the midst of tragedy due to being part of a body that takes the Gospel seriously, and we are extremely thankful that we have been shown our own sinfulness and inundated with solid teaching about mercy and grace.
Of course, God’s grace is also evident in ways that are not as easy to speak of. Deeply embedded sin, some of which I was failing to see or deal with, is being made clear. The sharp edge of tragedy has peeled away layers of cynicism and pride. While the process itself is painful, I can rejoice in the fact that it is happening in the shadow of the Cross. I recently read a prayer from The Valley of Vision that highlights this truth well. Near the end it reads:
O my crucified but never wholly mortified sinfulness!
O my indwelling and besetting sins!
O the tormenting slavery of a sinful heart!
Destroy, O God, the dark guest within
whose hidden presence makes my life a hell.
Yet thou hast not left me here without grace;
The cross still stands and meets my needs
in the deepest straits of the soul.
I thank the that my remembrance of it
is like David's sight of Goliath's sword
which preached forth thy deliverance.
It is a joy to remember that my identity is in Christ…that I have been made righteous in God’s sight.
I’m not sure yet what direction I want to take this blog. It might be short ramblings, or I may use it to pour out longwinded musings. I might post weekly, bi weekly, or never again. The latter option will seem most likely to those who know me well…I don’t exactly excel in consistency. In case I do end up posting again, I want to make one thing clear. I believe my little girl is in Heaven. I mention this because future posts will most likely carry it as a foregone conclusion. I acknowledge that infant salvation is not something on which the Bible is explicitly clear, but I believe a good case can be made for all infants being part of the elect. I would lay out my argumentation here, but there is no need. I’ve found a PDF from a seminary professor that advocates my view in a more concise and effective manner than I could ever hope. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to download it here.
Grace and Peace
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