Dear John and Regine

Oh dear, beloved friends,

Our hearts are breaking for your agony. Holding your son, feeling him wiggle in your arms and knowing that he is as beautiful, as lovely as any baby could ever be. And then letting him go. Seeing him depart and go to Jesus after just a few hours of his presence with you. Oh dear friends, we are praying.

And, you have a healthy son now too. On Facebook I saw a few comments congratulating you on "your little man," "your bundle of joy," but those words were singular and we all knew you were awaiting twins. I even wrote to you there about rejoicing with you and grieving with you. But after thinking about it just a bit longer, I've decided that although there IS joy for you, it would seem truer that this time is marked more by grief than by rejoicing.

We, as the people of God, have been commanded to mourn with those who mourn, and we love you so much, so we don't want to miss you in this. We know you have a healthy beautiful son and we are so glad. We are so grateful for him and for you. May he grow to bring such joy and blessing to you and a myriad of others. We hope that you will have many decades to rejoice in his life, his passions growing and developing and being poured out for his own great joy and for the brightest glory of the God that we adore and that we trust.... but your son is missing his brother. And right now that is the sting you're bearing.

Two of my dearest friends are twins and at the one's wedding, her sister addressed her "Mel, you and I have been best friends since the womb..." Silas is missing his best friend. You are missing your son. And we are broken with you and for you, dear friends.

We've just had grief like this in our family so we've thought a lot about grief lately. At first glance, it might seem like birth and death should be equally weighty, equally celebrated, equally honored. But at the time of the death blow, I think it cannot. Grief overshadows. A griever can physically, hardly breathe. Mourning must be done in it's time.

And I think there is something to be said of grief as a gift. A hard and horrifying gift, but a gift of God nonetheless. I am praying that where you are- so terribly far from us- there will be those that will come around you to mourn with you.... to embrace this hard gift of grief, of being so emptied, of being carved out till you feel like you are going to burst open and there'll be nothing left of you, but still, trusting that you are being so carved by a Good and Gracious Surgeon, so that you can know more of Him, that you can comprehend, trust, enjoy more of his mysterious wisdom and goodness as he empties you in this valley of sorrow.

I wonder if more of the friends around grievers don't enter into grief because we are sometimes, somehow afraid that to enter into grief- to really mourn with the mourning- would be like telling God "I'm ok if you need to do this to me too." I wonder if it's this false sense of self-protection or something along these lines that keeps us from grieving more openly with others.

May the Lord grow us Christians to move beyond this kind of preserving our own lives- our comfort, our health, our lives- and move into the great joy of obeying our Lord... like the joy of fellowship in knowing and trusting God when we obey his command to grieve with those who grieve.

May the Lord be your great comfort in this time of sorrow. May he be your Rock, your Peace, Your Hope. We are greatly comforted to know that you do grieve with Hope, because we know that you will see your Brennan when he stands with our Redeeming King as He comes to reign. Come quickly Lord Jesus!

John and Regine, We love you so much. We are so glad for you to have your healthy boy. And we are so broken for you now as you mark the loss of your other sweet son.

Praying, praying, praying, loving you, and looking to Jesus-
Matt and Jill

PS- For friends of grievers, two very helpful links are here: Molly Piper's guide to grieveing with friends, and our brother and sister-in-law's advice for what to say, as well as their entire blog from the month of April this year. And, in case you haven't experienced a death like this close enough to home to "get it"... to know how hard it is, this post might possibly help, written for our grieving family.