July 13, 2014 | I Can Do All Things Through Christ

My Brave
Grandson
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 The Small
White Casket

COVER PHOTO COURTESY OF WYNN A. BAUMAN . PAGE 2 PHOTO: ISTOCK/THINKSTOCK.

B Y W Y N N A . BAU M A N

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 It wasnt supposed to end this way
Last May the school secretary
called my classroom, saying, Theres
something for you at the front desk!
I stood looking at a beautiful
bouquet of spring flowers with
a small card addressed to me. I
quickly opened it and read, Dear
Mom, You are going to be a grandma
in early December! signed by my
youngest son, Andrew, and his
wife, Christy, who lived across the
country along the west coast. I
told the secretary, and she cheered
with tears in her eyes. I stood there
unbelievingly. The first grandchild in
COVER PHOTO COURTESY OF WYNN A. BAUMAN . PAGE 2 PHOTO: ISTOCK/THINKSTOCK.
our family!
The months passed quickly with
both parents staying active in sports,
exercise, and a lot of response from
the growing baby boy. Nearing
December Christy and Andrew read
to him, turned up the radio in the
car, and sang to him, with the little
one joining in with kicks.
The due date came and went.
The doctor said as soon as the baby
became less active, he would be
ready to arrive. A few days later he
settled down, and both parents knew
at last they would see their little
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son. The doctor quickly scheduled a
sonogram to confirm he was in place
and ready to be born, to become
family!
Early in December my cell phone
rang at school and I heard the
strangled voice of Andrew: Weve
lost the baby! He began crying
uncontrollably. Slowly the story
came. Theyd checked several times
for the heartbeat, but there was
none. They would induce the birth
the next morning.
Oh, dear God, no! I cried. There
must be some mistake.
My legs felt like they were
buckling and I grabbed the desk. I
stared unseeing out the window.
I heard someone ask if I needed a
ride home and I shook my head no,
feeling a blankness covered by tears.
Several friends quietly gathered
in my living room. I cried out, Is our
family cursed? I sobbed into my
hands, ashamed to look up. I knew Id
have to face this alone. There would
be no presence of the little ones
grandfather, who had been missing
from our lives for many years.
A friend made my flight
3
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 arrangements from North Carolina to
the west coast as others sat close in
silent comfort, sharing tears.
Many miles away my childrens
pastor and friends invited Andrew
and Christy to stay at their home
to await the next mornings birth.
They were surrounded with love and
months of exploding joy smashed into
indescribable disbelief and loss.
support of friends. But nothing could
dull the horror of knowing theyd
deliver their lifeless baby boy in the
morning.
The hospital gave them a private
area on a separate floor away from
other deliveries. Instead of the
welcomed cry of a newborn, inhuman
wails wrenched from the new parents
for their son. The cord that had given
him life had taken it away.
My plane left early the next
morning. The flight seemed
endless, carrying the deadness
of unspeakable sorrowmonths
of exploding joy smashed into
indescribable disbelief and loss.
I sat huddled against the window.
Then it hit me how many hours
would have passed since my
grandsons morning birth and my
arrival. The thought of not holding
him and hugging him stabbed me
with a new piercing ache.
He had been so full of life, and
now when he could at last be seen,
touched, and loved, he could see and
feel nothing. My shoulders shook
with sobs. I was flying to a funeral
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instead of celebrating new life.
At the last layover, I got a text
from my son, saying, Jackson Brave
is waiting for his grandma. More
tears, but thankfulness that I would
hold my first grandson after all.
Inwardly I yelled to the pilot to
hurry, but the plane continued its
steady pace through the soft clouds
backed by a flawless blue sky. How
could things look so normal outside
when inside my heart was crushed?
I had only one real question. Why?
But some questions have no answers.
I stumbled down the long hospital
hall clustered with people, some with
bowed heads in their hands, some
quietly crying. I wanted to thank
them, but couldnt make myself look
in their eyes. I focused on the door
at the end of the hallway, my lips
moving to inward prayer, Help my
children. Please give them strength only
You can give.
Such hope, potential, with this
new one, redemption for our family.
Growing up with the unfulfilled
promise of a father, this baby
represented hope, a time for Andrew.
I pushed myself toward the silent
room.
I stepped into the softly lit
room filled with suffocating loss.
Somewhere in my head I thought of a
Christmas card with Mary, Joseph, and
the baby silhouetted. My eyes rested
on the couple cradling their firstborn,
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 heads bowed over him. Andrew and
Christy looked up with drawn wet
faces and we hugged silently.
Andrew gently placed Jackson
Brave into my arms. I touched his
soft skin, the perfect hands like his
mothers, and his dads cleft chin.
He fit so well in my arms, his sturdy
weight anchoring him. I studied
him, memorizing more than for any
test. This time there was no second
chance.
Both parents whispered words of
love, and caresses to the serene little
one.
God helped me to know that in spite of
the incomprehensible death of a baby,
His love was still true, undiminished, and
unchanging.
...
Andrew and Christy carried the
tiny white casket down the aisle and
placed it on the empty table at the
front of the church, then they kissed
the casket and sat down beside it.
Daily Bible Readings
SUNDAY
MONDAY
TUESDAY
WEDNESDAY
THURSDAY
FRIDAY
SATURDAY
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People silently followed, placing small
purple orchids on the casket. The
hushed footsteps continued for over
an hour, each one with words and
embraces for the grieving parents.
At the end of the cemetery service
on that cold drizzling afternoon,
Andrew saw the bulldozer filled with
dirt to cover the grave.
No machine, he said. We will
bury him ourselves.
Each of us reached in and took
the sacred dirt and dropped it down
onto the casket. I wanted to jump
down into the silent grave to protect
Jackson from this finality, to somehow
stop this inexplicable burial. But
it continued until the attendants
tamped the last fresh dirt. Andrew
and Christy knelt down and kissed
Leviticus 16-17
Leviticus 18-22
Leviticus 23-27
Numbers 1-9
Numbers 10-14
Numbers 15-21
Numbers 22-25
5
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 the newly laid grass, saying their I lifted my empty hands, filled
final goodbyes. Friends and family only with desperate sadness. I asked
remained encircled in reverent Him to somehow help me to have a
silence, sheltering the sorrowing deeper faith, one that flies into the
couple, who didnt want to leave their face of logic, no visible proof, yet is
little one alone on the hillside. still there, solid and complete.
I know I will see Jackson Brave I dont know why God allows
in heaven. He went before us. devastating loss, but I can begin to
When his parents had told people know who God is and start to rest in

I dont know why God allows devastating

loss, but I can begin to know who God is
and start to rest in that.

what they would name him, many that. What He does comes from who
wondered about his middle name. He is, whether I understand it or
At the graveside a dear friend spoke not. Knowing more of Gods wisdom,
and said, Most children have to live love, and grace, I must trust that, no
up to their parents name, but this matter what reality screams. God
time the parents must live up to his will remain faithful because of who
name. He is.
What Ive learned is that there are Months have passed since those
no good words to say at a time like December days and sorrow still
this, other than, Im so sorry. I know comes. But also comes joy that Brave
it hurts more deeply than I could has led the way, and has set a marker
ever imagine. for his family to look higher, to gaze
People simply walking alongside, up to a saving and loving God.
quietly absorbing the unspeakable I know with certainty that my
grief was how Gods deep love spoke first grandchild is living and waiting
to me. He helped me to know that in to welcome each one of us to the
spite of the incomprehensible death unimaginable joy of heaven and
of a baby, His love was still true, into our loving Saviors outstretched
undiminished, and unchanging. arms. f P L

Senior Managing Editor: Catherine DeVries Art Director: Paul Parson Designer: Stephanie Hopkins

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Volume 72, Number 4, June | July | August 2014

6 Power for Living | July 13, 2014

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 He who testifies to these things says, Yes, I am coming
soon. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus
be with Gods people. Revelation 22:20-21

The Unconscious Life by Susan Rehberg

Flowers in the garden

do nothing but bloom where theyre planted.
And yet they inspire, refresh the spirit,
Add beauty and wonder, and delight the soul
Simply by their loveliness.

Is it not the same with you, dear one?

The Master Gardner planted you
where He wants you,
To grow and bloom
so that your gentle words
and your kind deeds can
Inspire the discouraged,
Refresh the weary,
And add beauty and wonder
to a downtrodden heart,
While He delights
in using you for His purposes
Right where you are.
ISTOCK/THINKSTOCK

Power for Living | I Can Do All Things Through Christ 7

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 THE CHURCH IN THE WORLD
a monthly review of
Spiritual Trends
Run the Good Race
(WNS)He hated jogging, but he got up
anyway. Because Murphy got up that
morning, pulled on his shorts, laced up his
shoes, and then gasped his way through a
half-mile run, Barbara, who has advanced
ovarian cancer, could cover last months
rent. Gerry, who has scalp, lung, and colon
cancer, could pay his electric bill. Darlene,
who has late-stage colorectal cancer, got
help with her medical bills.
Murphy is the founder of
OneRunTogether, a tiny charity that
organizes fund-raising runs for cancer
patients. Since its founding in August
2011, the volunteer organization has
handed out over $10,000 in 37 grants of a
few hundred dollars each to help families
pay bills, fix vehicles, cover childcare, and
keep current on their health insurance
premiums.
Murphys race started on Dec. 1, 2001,
when his wife Beth was diagnosed with
breast cancer. It went into remission but
returned in 2007. After two agonizing
years, she passed away on Nov. 13, 2009.
The loss engulfed Murphy in grief
and he started, he said, sleep-walking
through life. He remembers very little
from this period except a feeling that God
was in control.
After five months, at a friends faith-
ful urging, Murphy decided that April
morning to try running to deal with the
pain and listlessness. I knew it wouldnt
kill me, he laughed, but he very nearly
thought he would die as he struggled
through that first outing. Murphy resolved
to run daily for a month, and the first
three days of solo runs it rained hard.
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God has a sense of humor, he said.
But he persevered, and as he continued
to run, he felt the fog lift. He began to
sleep again and regain his concentration
and zest for life. On a missions trip to
Germany that summer, he shared his tes-
timony in a church. It was scary, he said,
but, I came down from the pulpit and
just knew that God wanted me to tell of
His faithfulness.
When he returned home he founded
OneRunTogether (ORT) and immediately
brought on his future daughter-in-law,
Rebecca, a recent graduate from Penn
State University with a degree in mar-
keting, as event coordinator. ORT holds
several 5K and 1-mile runs per month,
organizes events at local restaurants,
and receives donations from individuals
and corporate sponsors. Grant applicants
must be in treatment and demonstrate
financial need. A five-member board
approves the requests.
Lynne Lawrence was diagnosed with
pancreatic cancer last year and under-
went surgery. Murphy and Rebecca vis-
ited her, brought her a Bible and a hand-
written card, and prayed with her. That
personal touch was wonderful, Lawrence
said. They invest themselves, not just
the money.
The races are family and community
events9- and 10-year-olds runs beside
their parents, and breast cancer survivors
run in pink T-shirts. Volunteer Sharon
Valentino said when Murphy shares his
own story at each event, people soak in
every word. It really gives you a sense
of hopehope in terms of supporting
people who are dealing with cancer, and
hope for the community, Valentino said.
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