Intro

The purpose of this journal is so we will never forget. I don’t worry we will ever forget Grant. In fact, I know that a day won’t go by that BJ and I won’t think of him and miss him. But I know that time will continue to heal and time will continue to march on. And I don’t want to forget any detail of the last week. Although it’s never easy to revisit heartache and pain there was so much joy and goodness that surrounded us throughout. God showed up in numerous and immeasurable ways and revealed himself in ways I never imagined. That’s what I don’t want to forget. On the days where the ache begins to creep in and tries to settle itself around our hearts, I want to be able to recall the comfort and peace we have been able to experience in spite of everything else. I want to give testimony to the power of Christ and his faithfulness in this time. So here is our story.

Part 1: Finding Out

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

Deep down I had a feeling that something may have been wrong. We’d had a perfect ultrasound at 20 weeks and found out that we were having another boy. Every body part and system they looked at checked out and we were relieved to have another healthy child. I hadn’t been feeling him kick yet, but the sonographer reassured me that it may be a little later since my placenta was positioned in front. I became more and more anxious to feel him with each day and week. 23 weeks hit and I became concerned which turned into worried which turned into panic by Friday. My next appointment was the following Monday, but I called a nurse on Friday to express my concerns and try to get some reassurance. She did just that and I had mostly peace through the weekend, even enough to paint his room with our friend. I told BJ that I would be fine to go to my appointment by myself, despite my recent fears. I explained it later that deep down I felt something might be wrong, but even deeper down I really never thought we would face what we were about to.

I saw the nurse and finally Dr. Cooper came in with the doppler. Time stood still as she searched and searched for a heartbeat. I looked at her face and knew she was trying not to show me concern. Moments later I was stepping into the ultrasound room and my worst fears were realized. Our baby boy was gone, most likely 2 weeks before. I felt numb, sick, and out of my body all at the same time. Dr. Cooper was so kind and with tears in her eyes walked me through what this process would look like. I could barely comprehend any of it. BJ was on his way by this point and I knew she would need to repeat all of it for him. He met me in her office and we just held each other and cried. Dr. Cooper gently explained to us that within the next 24 hours I would need to be admitted in the hospital and induced to deliver our baby. It felt like the cruelest and harshest way possible to move ahead, but she explained that it was by far the safest for this stage of development. We walked out the back and I could barely walk to the car.

Over the next several hours I went between disbelief, grief, and plan mode.  And our roller coaster ride had begun. It’s a cruel irony that in one of the most tragic events I could imagine we were forced to carry on making decisions and plans. We went to my parents’ house and told them our devastating news. We just cried together as the boys ate peanut butter sandwiches and played trains. I couldn’t even imagine getting through the next 48 hours. I can remember desperately wanting to handle this tragedy quietly amongst ourselves and wanting to feel normal again. I didn’t want the attention and sympathy and ripple across our family and friends. We knew we needed to tell the boys and that night before bed we told them as best we could that their “baby buh” wasn’t in mommy’s tummy anymore, but that he had gone to heaven to be with Jesus. We pointed up and told them that Baby Buh was so happy now and that we would see him again someday. They pointed up with us and then promptly requested their train book to be read. I guess that went well.

We met with our pastor that evening and he walked us through some of the decisions we would be faced with in the hospital and after. It’s crazy how in 12 hours we had gone from making decisions like paint colors for the nursery to decisions about testing for a cause of death and how our time would be spent with our tiny son. We knew that we were in way over our heads and weren’t even sure where to begin. Mike was exactly what we needed and provided a necessary support throughout the week.

We also had the blessing of spending time the next day with my dear friend, Rachael, who is a NICU nurse. She played another helpful role of preparing us for what to expect in our time with Grant and gave us some great spiritual perspectives in what we were facing. We are so grateful for all of the loving and tender preparation we received.

Part 2: The Hospital

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

The closest way I can describe the way Tuesday felt was the day before a death sentence. I know that seems so dramatic, but it’s how I felt. I was beyond emotional and so very scared of what I was about to face. All I wanted to do was hold Pierce and Blaine tightly in my arms and stay like that. We spent time at our favorite park and tried to soak up every minute we had together. I still couldn’t see past my hospital stay and I was torn up at the thought of leaving my babies for 1-2 days. We were leaving that night and Abbey would come over once they were in bed. I was supposed to report at 8, but I knew I could not physically walk out the door if they were still awake and crying for me. So we decided to be late and tuck them in first. And I’m so glad. The amazing thing is that sometime throughout Tuesday I began to feel a peace and calm come over me about what was ahead. I wasn’t entering into it without emotion and heavy heart, but I was resigned to get through what was ahead. I know without a shadow of a doubt that it was the hundreds of prayers being offered on my and our behalf from literally across the country. There is no other way that I could have had the peace and calm that I did walking into the hospital.

We had sent out an email to friends and family explaining what had happened and immediately we began receiving emails and texts with encouragement and scripture, and voice mails of prayers. I had been so reluctant to feel so exposed in our tragedy, but the shower of love and support we began to receive for our dear friends and family strengthened me in a way I didn’t know possible. I have never so personally experienced the power of prayers offered for me and the ways it changed me. I didn’t know exactly what was ahead, but I knew Who was in control.

This is the moment that I have to give praise to my husband. I really can’t even come up with the words to describe how amazing he was through every step. He took the entire week off work and really never left my side throughout this journey. I am so grateful that he is such a strong and supportive man. We cried together, he led me in prayer, he held me, he shared his heart and listened as I shared mine. He was present with me through it all. Thank you, Lord, for the gift of my husband. Neither of us knew what we were about to experience in the next 24-48 hours, but we knew that we would do it together.

I was given doses of the induction medication every 4 hours and by 8 AM I was ready for an epidural. In a nutshell, the first one really didn’t take and I began having pretty intense pain by about 11:00. The anesthesiologist came back to do another one, but my contractions were intense and constant by then. I had tried to avoid having pain, but somehow it seemed fitting I suppose. The second helped and thank goodness because I really hadn’t known how I would get through it. There was really no way to know how long this process would take and we were praying desperately that it would be on the shorter end. My nurse (who was the best I could have imagined and never left my side) felt on my abdomen and almost immediately the pain stopped. She said we were ready and paged Dr. Cooper. We had been warned that sometimes things happen so fast that the nurse has to deliver and then the doctor comes right after. But Dr. Cooper was able to make it.

The delivery wasn’t painful at all and that second epidural had done the trick. It was a surreal and scary feeling knowing we were about to see our baby. We had asked Dr. Cooper to tell us what to expect once she saw him and she told us he was a little bruised, but beautiful and perfect. She kissed his tiny head and put him in my arms. We both were crying tears of everything: joy at meeting our son, sorrow that we were meeting him in this way, and relief that he was here. He was simply beautiful. Every time I think back on that moment I think of the verse in Psalm 139 “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Grant was fearfully and wonderfully made. We studied and memorized every detail of his little body. He had every single development and detail of a normal baby, just in a miniature form. A darling nose and little lips (which we both agreed reminded us of Pierce), little buds of brown hair, fingers the size of my fingernail, tiny knees and elbows, and feet no more than an inch. He weighed 1 pound exactly and was 12 ½ in. long. I had been so nervous to see and hold him, but in that moment I couldn’t imagine anything more comforting and right. He was our baby, our third son, and we were his mommy and daddy.

We had a huge answer to prayer shortly after his birth in finding out the cause of everything. We had prayed that there could be some sort of obvious answer and that we wouldn’t have to make a decision about testing. The main desire for an answer is for wisdom in future pregnancies. We had pretty much decided that we wouldn’t pursue testing, but Dr. Cooper was able to reassure us after some blood work that this truly was a random and unhelpable thing. This in no way changed any of our grief, but it was good to know that.

The hospital offered so many wonderful services and keepsakes: a sketch artist, photography, a little bracelet with his name, a volunteer-made knit sleeper and hat to take his photo in, foot and hand prints. I’m so grateful to have it all. I can’t imagine a more supportive hospital and staff. They made an incredibly painful process more meaningful and supportive.
My parents had been in earlier to say hi and decided to hang out in the lobby for a bit. We hadn’t known it, but they came shortly before Grant was born. We had thought it would be just us to hold him, but I wanted to share him with my parents. We invited them and they came up and held him and cried with us while admiring how perfect he was. I knew that they were going through a unique grief both as grandparents to Grant, but also having to see their baby going through something so painful. I’m so glad they got to share in our time with him.

As the hours ticked by I knew it was bringing us closer to the painful decision of when and how to let him go. Throughout our hours with him I kept thinking of how I could let him go. I can’t imagine a more painful thing. Some friends from college had recently gone through a stillbirth with their second daughter a week and a half before. Such odd timing. I had reached out to Susan before we went into the hospital and she wrote an incredibly helpful message back that helped further prepare us for what we would face. I’ll never forget her saying that we would just know when it was time. She had said people had told her the same thing and she couldn’t comprehend it, but it just became right. I questioned if I would truly have that moment, but desperately wanted it because how else would I be able to do it?

We asked for some private time and we just spoke to him through tears and sobs. We shared our unfulfilled dreams, told him about his brothers, and prayed. But God’s peace once again seized our hearts and minds. Towards the end of the afternoon it just became time. His little, physical body wasn’t meant to stay in this world and I was filled with the knowledge, that could only come from a God greater than our pain, that we were only holding his shell. Grant was not really with us. He was alive in the arms of his Father who loves him so much more completely than we ever could. Grant was not missing us. We just missed him.

Another moment that I had dreaded in a way that words can’t describe was once again replaced by a peace that surpasses all understanding and, although our bodies ached with grief, we could feel God’s presence and love. And that has been the theme of this entire journey. We have a walked a road so filled with heartache, tears, and sadness, but at the same time have never experienced God in such real and powerful ways.

Part 3: Coming Home

“Do you not know?  Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:28-31

We were able to come home that night. I can’t remember the last time I had felt so exhausted in every way possible. I longed to sleep in my own bed, but wasn’t sure how I was going to physically move my body to get there. I had been nervous about the short and yet long walk back to our car. There was no car seat to carry. I began to feel the disconnect of leaving the intense experience at the hospital and entering back into the real world where life was carrying on at full speed. I didn’t feel as sad as I’d expected, but more like trying to process and grasp all we’d been through. We grabbed some dinner in the car and headed home. My mom and sister were there and the boys were in bed. I hadn’t seen my sister since everything had happened and she just hugged me and cried. I remember feeling like I should be crying too, but it felt like I didn’t have any tears left by that point and there was a definite relief and happiness to be back home. As we went upstairs to fall into bed we heard Blaine still talking in his crib. We went into resettle him and quickly agreed that we could use a little snuggle and story time. As we brought him into our bed and began reading I began to feel the odd disconnect again. I described it to BJ later that it was like I had just traveled to another planet and had another life for 24 hours. Our time in the hospital was incredibly intense and the whole time I was there I was just Grant’s mommy. I had been so upset to leave Pierce and Blaine behind and was worried I would miss them throughout, but that hadn’t been the case at all. I knew they were in the loving hands of their Aunt Abbey and we had lots of reassuring pictures and video to prove they were having a ball. I was able to completely focus on Grant. But as I sat there reading to Blaine it’s as if all of the last day had almost been a dream because here I sat, back to Pierce and Blaine’s mommy. I realized my two worlds never met. Grant never got to come home and we were never altogether as a family of 5. It was an odd feeling.

I wasn’t sure how I would be able to sleep that night. I had feared nightmares or the inability to turn my mind off, but my exhaustion and God’s peace won out and I slept soundly and restfully. More answered prayer I’m sure. We woke up the next morning and went back to the routine of play time and breakfast, but at some point we decided to peek in at Grant’s room. We had painted his room the weekend before. It was a beautiful combination of navy and lime green to match his alligator bedding and I was so excited about his nursery coming together, despite a few nagging fears of his health In the back of my mind. When we found out that Grant had passed away that Monday, I was so regretful that we had painted. Why couldn’t we have just waited one more weekend and left it the way it was? Where was God’s timing in that? Abbey had been a lot of the creative vision as we had dreamed the theme and painted and planned. She had offered to paint over it while we were gone, but we told her that we thought maybe we should hold off and see how we felt. Then she came up with the idea as a playroom for the boys. I liked that idea and told her that maybe we could plan some ideas later. In the meantime I had asked if she could get the paint stuff picked up and maybe a few of the baby items we’d gathered in the room as well.

We mostly peeked into his room that morning to see if she’d had time to do any of it since we’d gotten home earlier than we thought. I was nervous to go in, but as we opened the door tears began streaming down our faces at what we saw. Abbey had run out and bought a few supplies to begin the playroom. Two chalkboards hung at toddler height, one with a “P” and one with a “B”. And there, in between the chalkboards, was a little canvas plaque with an alligator and a heart above it. It was perfect and I instantly knew that this room would answer my question from the night before about uniting as a family of 5. It could be Grant’s room with his colors and alligators, but also a place where Pierce and Blaine could play and create with their joy and laughter. I can’t explain what a gift that room is and now the paint colors are another way we can remember Grant. I felt like it was yet another preparation God had allowed to bring us joy in the midst of sadness.

Part 4: Plans

“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love for I have put my trust in you.” Psalm 143:8

The next two days were filled with a lot of plans and details as we prepared for Grant’s memorial service that Saturday. It was definitely stressful and we discussed and made decisions that no parent should ever have to, but the desire to plan a beautiful service for Grant kept us going. In the meantime I continued getting floods of emails, Facebook posts, and texts of encouragement and comfort. I wanted to respond to each one, but there just were not enough hours in the day. But once again, those messages shrouded us with comfort to help us carry on. We met with Mike again to share our story and plan the service. We were again so grateful for his guidance and encouragement. He helped us plan everything and set it up through the church. BJ and I both had decided to share. Our college friend, Susan, had shared with me that she had felt led to share at her baby daughter’s funeral because who else could speak on behalf of Amelia? I knew right then that I would want to share at Grant’s service as a way to honor him and allow other people to experience what we had in our short time with him. We sat down at different times and decided that each of us would write whatever came and then share with each other to see what we might need to add or take out. When we each read what we had written it felt like another God- ordained moment. We both read through tears and at the end I realized that BJ had said a lot of what I wanted to, but didn’t know how. And my words were different than his in a completing way. I had thought we might have a lot of the same things, but they seemed to fit together perfectly.

I was a little nervous the day before Grant’s service. I wasn’t sure how I would feel; if it would be another long and painful day, how I would feel grieving in a room full of people, if the service would make me feel even sadder. My sweet friend, Lauren, had graciously offered the day before to bring me over some outfits from her mom’s darling boutique so I could choose one for Grant’s service. I can’t tell you what a gift that was to me. I was blown away by her thoughtfulness to offer me something I hadn’t given much thought to. Yet it was a special event and it was such a gift to have a beautiful dress that was perfect for the occasion. Thank you, Lauren and Zuzu’s Petals!

When Mike had come over the morning after we’d gotten home we told him how we were looking at that day as Day 1, a new morning to start the healing journey. We weren’t sure how we were going to feel each day, but we both found hope in the idea of new mornings and had both found favorite verses to reflect that hope. BJ’s was Psalm 143:8 “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.” My theme verse has become Lamentations 3:22-23 “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Saturday morning arrived with beautiful sunshine and we both felt surprisingly happier and lighter than we had all week. It was so appropriate to have his service on a sunny morning. And it felt good to share Grant’s life with our room full of family and friends and there was such strength to see everyone there in support of our family. I’ve included separate entries of both BJ’s and my words we shared at the service.

Afterwards my parents’ sweet life group helped host a lunch at my parents’ house. So many of our friends had contributed food and it was a beautiful spread. I was once again humbled by everyone’s generosity.

Grant's Memorial Service

Grant Carl Weil

Welcome

Scripture Reading

Psalm 145

Prayer

Worship in Song

Great is Thy Faithfulness

Reflections and Sharing

Message

God’s Tapestry

Worship in Song

Jesus Loves Me

Benediction

BJ's Words at Grant's Service

Thank you all for coming and sharing with us and supporting us. First, I want to take a moment to admire my wife. In the last few days, I have been amazed at the strength – emotional, spiritual, and physical – that she has shown. Katie, you are an amazing mother and wife. Your love cannot be exhausted and has no limits. I saw that this week with all three of our boys, Pierce, Blaine and Grant. I am so grateful for you and I cherish you.

Over the last few days I’ve looked back at some pictures. Some of these were of our vacation to the Carolinas in May. It was on this trip that we found out that we were pregnant with Grant. I remember the moment Katie told me. We had just left our friends’ house embarking on a four hour drive to Myrtle Beach. Katie asked me to pull over because she had something to tell me. So, I slowed the light blue Dodge Journey to the side of the road as my heart raced. I knew what she was going to tell me. She was pregnant. My heart leapt. I didn’t care if it was another son to be a “buddy” to Pierce and Blaine, or a girl to be their little sister for them to protect. Our family was growing and I was picturing our story unfolding before us.

In the months that followed, we considered a bigger car, new car seats, strollers, bedding, you name it. We also began discussing names. We talked boy and girl names. Girl names were actually easier but then we found out he was a boy. We discussed many names before choosing Grant, which means great. It’s such a large name for such a small baby. But as we’ve experienced this week and the grief and sadness, we have felt so much love. That love has come from the body of Christ. It has been through this body that our little Grant has shown us true greatness, the love of Christ.

I am sad. I miss him and I always will. Our story is not what I had envisioned. I saw three sons growing up together, playing sports, driving the boat, wrestling with me. Our story is forever changed. It would be easy for me to give up on our story and there have been some moments that I’ve wanted to.

But the last few nights before I go to sleep, I’ve read Psalm 143. Verse 8 is my favorite.

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
    for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
    for to you I entrust my life

I entrust our family’s story to Jesus and his unfailing love. He will show us the way to go.

Grant, you are my Son, whom I love and am well pleased.

My Words at Grant's Service

I’m pretty certain I have felt every single emotion possible within the last 5 days. We have walked through some of the darkest moments we will ever face, and yet I keep hearing myself speak of God’s goodness, love, and peace. Still, throughout the past few days I have vacillated between feeling like I’m in a nightmare that I just need to wake up from and understanding that this is really happening.

We found out that Grant was a boy at our 20 week appointment. Many of you joined us for a gender reveal party and probably remember me sharing that night about some words God had spoken to my heart a couple days before. He had spoken to my heart what an honor it was to raise godly men because we live in a culture and world that desperately need to see what true masculinity looks like. I felt a peace and new excitement at the prospect of another boy. I really don’t have an answer as to why God spoke that only to take Grant home before he got a chance to be part of our world. We will continue to raise Pierce and Blaine in that mindset, but what does it mean for Grant? But I think that as we carry on and continue to tell our story, Grant will still have a chance to make an impression on this world. His tiny life will always matter.

The truth is, there are a lot of things I don’t know right now. I don’t know why God allowed this to happen to Grant. To us. I don’t know why this happened right now. I don’t know what the future of our family looks like anymore. I don’t know what the healing will look like. We all have so many questions in our pain and sadness.

But I’ve also started realizing there are a lot of things I do know. I know that our tiny son now stands alongside his Grandpa Carl among the saints and angels before the throne of Jesus Christ. I know that because Jesus is on his throne I can have peace. We have never felt less in control, but because I feel so helpless I have had no choice but to fall into the arms of the only One who can save me right now. I know I am grateful that I can look to a God who is big enough to bring good out of something Satan meant for harm. And I know that we will see our son again because of the sacrifice of Jesus. That our family will all be together in paradise for eternity. I have never been more grateful for the assurance of salvation.

And I know that I have never felt so much love and support from those around us. I mentioned in one of our emails that I initially wasn’t sure how God was going to show up in this darkness. But he has wrapped his faithful arms tightly around us through the body of Christ. I will never be able to express how much this has touched my heart and pulled me through.

I am so grateful that I got a chance to meet our tiny son. I was so scared, but he was beautiful and our time together soothed in a way I didn’t know it could. We spent time memorizing every detail of him. His cute nose and mouth. His little knees and elbows. His little feet, no more than an inch. His fingers that were the size of my fingernail. There is no doubt that he was fearfully and wonderfully made and I will forever be his mommy. He became a part of our hearts and family and will always have a place in our lives.

A dear friend wrote Grant a beautiful letter and her last line captures Grant’s life perfectly. “Through your life, Grant, God claimed another victory over death and His glory flows from the very mention of your beautiful name.”

Part 5: Grant’s legacy in our lives

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

I think one of the saddest things about losing Grant before we ever really had him was that we wouldn’t get to see him grow up. To see who he would become. To watch his life shape before our eyes. I think every parent in this type of position feels determined that the life of their baby or child will be remembered and, even greater than that, still have an impact on this earth despite the fact that they weren’t here. We feel that for Grant. We’ve decided that the best thing we can do is allow ourselves to be changed by this entire situation and not go back to who we were before. Grant changed our lives for the better. In the midst of heart breaking sadness we felt, we personally experienced our Almighty God in ways we never have.  We have a better understanding of His love, faithfulness, grace, and peace and we just want to share it.

When I look back at the last couple of weeks it’s hard to summarize all I’ve felt and learned from Grant’s life into a couple paragraphs. But the word I keep coming back to is faithfulness. It’s weird to think that I’ve felt God’s faithfulness to me the most when I lost something so precious, but that’s how it’s been. I know he loves me with a fierce, unending love and I have felt so rescued by him throughout in ways that nothing or no one else could have provided. I want to better live in light of his faithfulness to me and trust him in the unknowns. I want to continue to claim his promises and know that I can be faithful because He is faithful.

I’ve also never felt so grateful for his sovereignty. I understand better that His control knows no bounds. I know that I will not fully understand what this event means in light of eternity right now, but I know that He has perfect plan and will use everything for good.  Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” I’ve always liked control and it is not something easily given up, but I have learned to hold more loosely to the things of this life and entrust them more completely to God. This event has caused us to be even more grateful and joyful in Pierce and Blaine, but I also better understand that all three of our boys always have and always will ultimately belong to God. They have just been entrusted to us for a season. Rachael gave us a beautiful children’s book called “I Couldn’t Love You More” that illustrates this perfectly. We read it often, usually with tears in my eyes. My favorite lines are “You are mine for a moment, but you are His, forever His. In this life I am holding you, but in His arms you live.” As I firmly hold my 2 boys here on earth, I am more grateful than ever that they have a Father in heaven who loves them even more than I do and has a perfect plan for them as He holds them firmly in His hands.

Here are BJ's thoughts...

The events of the last week have been overwhelming. I have been overwhelmed with grief, overwhelmed with joy at the birth of a son, and overwhelmed with the support and love of family and friends.

After the memorial service for our little Grant, I became determined to “remember” him. I didn’t want his life to be forgotten. We will have a little birthday celebration each year where we look through the items we have left from our time with him. I have long had the idea – not originally mine – to have our family coat of arms engraved on a ring for me and each of my sons once they have reached “manhood”. As another form of remembrance, I have decided to engrave each boys’ name on the ring; Pierce, Blaine, and Grant. Plus any future children. I don’t think it would be possible to not remember him, but I am determined to put markers in our lives to make sure.

Even with all of the struggling I did to ensure I remember, it seemed to me that there was something more. I explained it to Katie that our lives are looked at, or judged, by the impact we have on others. Even though Grant’s life was so short, that doesn’t limit the impact he could have. I feel impacted. I know Katie does too. I don’t want that to be a temporary impact that fades with time. As I turned this over in my head and heart, I was able to boil it down this: I want to be a better man because of Grant’s life. I want to be a better husband, a better father, a better friend, a better worker and a better follower of Christ. How did I get here? It wasn’t a straight line.

We started the week as a typical happy suburban family. Two and half kids, one pet, a great marriage, a mortgage. I had (and thankfully still do after walking out without notice for a week) a great job that provides for us. Then that came crashing down. By the middle of the week, we had met our child, who was already in heaven. In an instant, climbing the corporate ladder, retirement savings, investments, etc. don’t seem so important. The best way I can summarize it is that eternity came into focus. The things of heaven have taken on a higher priority.

My challenge now is to keep eternity in this focus. By “this focus”, I guess I mean, the present. Eternity is now. For example, the other night, Blaine and Pierce were watching a Thomas (the train) episode right before bed. I was reading something on my iPad. I don’t even remember what. When I finished, I closed the iPad, at which point Blaine yelled, “Woohoo, Daddy finish!”  Eternity is now. I am shaping my children now, even in the instances when I don’t think they’re paying attention. If that’s true of two year olds, then surely it is about the adults I’m around each day as well.

It is so easy to allow the issues of today to force out the issues of forever. I think that is the #1 lesson I learned as a result of Grant’s life. The best way I can honor him is to not allow this to happen. I will be an intentional father, the romantic husband, and the genuine friend.