In the still small hours one year ago, I held my dying son's hand. The only sounds were the terrible din of the ventilator and the heart monitor. I held his warm hand and sang the only song that came to me: Psalm 23 from the psalter we use at church. Why this song? I don't know. I sang and prayed, prayed and sang. Hours passed.
He was supposed to have a math exam that day. Instead, doctors pronounced him dead in the afternoon. The hardest thing I have ever done was to leave his lifeless body alone in that sterile hospital room and drive away.
The past year has been filled with the most excruciating pain I have ever known. But because of the faith I have in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, I know I will be reunited with Maxwell one glorious day in heaven.
“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (I Corinthians 15:55)
He was supposed to have a math exam that day. Instead, doctors pronounced him dead in the afternoon. The hardest thing I have ever done was to leave his lifeless body alone in that sterile hospital room and drive away.
The past year has been filled with the most excruciating pain I have ever known. But because of the faith I have in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, I know I will be reunited with Maxwell one glorious day in heaven.
“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (I Corinthians 15:55)
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