When A Child Dies

When a child dies, it leaves a hole in you like nothing else, I have ever felt. At this point in my life I have found myself parentless also. I thank God my parents were still with me when Christopher died. Christopher was my eight day old son, which has gone to be with the Lord. Now that I have experienced losing my parents and a child, I find my self in a dilemma. Which hurts the most? That is the hardest question I believe I have ever been asked. I don't necessarily believe one hurts more than the other, just differently.

Christopher was born at thirty-two weeks and I had problems right from the get go. Four weeks into the pregnancy I had my first water leak. By the time I was thirty-two weeks I had been in labor and in the hospital seven times. At that time I did not know God and was very lost. However I did know God existed and I was plenty mad at him.

You see, I knew God could have stopped my baby from dying. I told him he was cruel and that I hated him. To leave a woman here and take her baby was the cruelest thing I could think of. That was in nineteen and eighty-four. I turned my life over to the Lord in nineteen and ninety-nine.

One night a year or so after I got saved, the spirit of the Lord woke me up. The time had come. He told me about all the times God had tried to comfort me when my son had died, after all he and I shared that particular pain; where my son died to be with the Lord, his son died so that I and my son, could be with the Lord. He reminded me of the long suffering God possessed. If the tables had have been turned, I would have let him die, and I would have gone to hell (the minute he told me he hated me, that is, if he thought like me, but God is not like that.) He just could not, all he could see was me lying across my bed crying and giving my soul to Jesus.

When So that night, God comforted me for the loss of my son. As he held me on his lap and I cried, the hole in me was filled.

GodsaidyesTk@aol.com

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