The gift bag and letter...

Just a few days after we came home from the hospital, after kissing our son goodbye for the very last time, I found a gift bag on our table.  The truth is it was actually one of a few gift bags around our house, thanks in part to the sincere kindness from others.

In the month that we spent away from our house at the hospital, our wonderful family and friends stepped in to care for the kids, kept our house running and accepted all the kind presents that were shared with us.  When Jarrett and I came home, I tried my best to keep all the gifts, cards, and presents organized so I could write a thank you. I set up a make shift thank you "office", at the end of our table and I tried to write a thank you to everyone who had shared so much love.  I'm sure I missed one, probably a few.  If you are the one or maybe the few I missed, please accept my apologizes, things were a bit out of control and I fell behind.

But still I tried to write a personal message of appreciation and express in words just how thankful we are.  Each night I'd sit down at the table and write notes of thanks... for hours.  With Noah being gone, writing thank you's became my focus and I felt the urgency to get them out as quickly as the kindness came in.  I think partially it was a way to keep my mind preoccupied with something other than the sadness replaying over and over how we lost him.  It also allowed me the chance to talk about Noah, to share my favorite things about him, to personally write a note to hundreds of you, to tell you again, just how wonderful my son was.  I know I'll never get tired of talking about him, I hope you don't get tired of listening.

While the distraction of writing the thank you's was great, each night after I'd stop writing I'd feel so depressed.  It was everything in me just to stand up from the table, and go get ready for bed.  I didn't care, I had no will to live.... as sad and as harsh as it sounds, it was the truth.  It was only a few weeks ago, these were the thoughts, I faced every single day, many times an hour.

One of those nights, I sat at the table, with a stack of neatly piled thank you's, our laptop next to me, and a glass of water, when I looked over to see the gift bag and a card sticking out the top.  My goal was always to write a thank you right after opening each card or gift and I knew I didn't have it in me to write another thank you that night, so I debated,  do I open it tonight or wait until the morning?  I sat there, telling myself I should get up and go to bed and for some reason I couldn't move.  I stared at the bag and let one of those moments, I now am able to see coming like the headlights of a car on a two-lane, Iowa road, pierce through my whole body.  The sadness, the deep pain and ache in my core, when I realize just what we are going through.  The realization that no matter how hard I try, I'm not going to wake up from this terrible nightmare and realize it is all a bad dream.  It is our reality.  Its terrible and that's how I felt that night.

I reached across the table, grabbed the bag and opened the card.  I read the outside of the card, "Wrapping you in love at a time when words fall short."  I opened the card, "With heartfelt sympathy for your loss."  Another beautiful card I wish I never had to read, but one that will be saved among a stack of many more to be packed up someday in a box labeled "Noah's things".  I noticed the card was still empty, nothing written on the pristine pages, no signature of who sent the card... it was empty... the way I felt inside.

Looking at the card without the signature, it took me a moment to realize in my other hand held a letter that had been inside the card. I opened the letter, a handwritten, several page note and like the post I shared yesterday within the first sentence, I felt myself holding my breath and feeling speechless at the kindness I was receiving... from a stranger.

The letter read...

Dear Angie, Jarrett and family,
I know I am a complete stranger to you, but I wanted to send my deepest, most heartfelt sympathies to you for the loss of your precious Noah James.  I go to church with some of your friends and she has shared your journey with me from early on.  I write this letter to you with the most broken heart and I know words like "I'm sorry for your loss" will do nothing to bring Noah back to this Earth.  There really are no words for this kind of situation, yet I wanted you to know that I continue to pray for your beautiful family every single day.

Since our friend told me of your story I have had you on my mind and in my heart.  I would find myself praying for you throughout the hours of the day and even through the night.  I have a 10-month old daughter and each night as I laid her down to sleep, she and I prayed for baby Noah, that Jesus would heal his frail little body and that he would strengthen him.  We prayed for you, Angie, and your husband and your 3 other children, that God would bring you all comfort, and that you would all feel his loving arms around you at all times.  This is still my prayer today, Angie.  As Noah has gone to be with Jesus, I pray that you can physically feel God's arms around you.  I pray he brings you comfort beyond understanding and I pray he brings you joy with each rising sun.

I realized by the end of the second paragraph, this wasn't a letter I could enjoy alone.  I called Jarrett to come sit by me, "You have to come see this," I said, "It's from a complete stranger and just reading the beginning I'm blown away by her care."

As a believer in Christ my whole life, I still can't explain why things like this happen to such amazing people.  I love Jesus with my whole heart and I know he does amazing miracles all the time still... yet why didn't he heal Noah?  I will never know and neither will you.  The only thing we can rest in knowing is that God is sovereign.  His plan and his ways are perfect and sometimes beyond our comprehension.  I know and trust that God had Noah here on this Earth for a short time but it was for a reason and it had significant purpose.

I couldn't help it, the tears and emotions I tried to keep shoved down inside me, burst through the surface and I sobbed into Jarrett's shirt as he stood next to me sitting.  "I just don't understand.  This isn't right.  It isn't fair. We didn't deserve this, did we?"  I knew this kind woman's note was telling me all truths and I was angry that I will never get to know why He took my precious baby.  I knew she was right but it was the first time it had actually registered with me that no matter how much I beg, no matter who I talk to, I'm never going to know why God didn't heal my son.  I put the letter down and cried into Jarrett who wrapped his arms around me and said not a single word.

Crying for me lately has been like a faucet filling up a water glass.  The tears pour out, the emotions, oh so many of them, water rush down my cheeks but like a cup filled to the brim, at a certain point, you just have to turn the faucet off.  It's the same way with me too.  I cry, I bawl, I weep until I think every drop of liquid has left my body and then, like the faucet I turn it off.  Get yourself together Angie  and just like that the tears are gone.... until the next time.

Wiping the tears away and brushing off any extra moisture from Jarrett's shirt that I could, I turned back to the table and picked the letter back up.

Noah's life really was a miracle Angie.  Look at how many people he touched in just 12 days.  I pray that when my life is over, I will leave the same kind of legacy that Noah James did.  In just 12 days, Noah loved, he was a fighter, he shared with others the message of Jesus through your faith, he brought joy, he taught us how to stand united with one voice in prayer.  Angie, your baby was a miracle!  His life was FULL and RICH and although it was short, he did more than a lot of people do in their entire life.  I am so thankful God allowed Noah to be here for those 12 days as it greatly impacted so many lives.  Now Noah rests in Heaven with the King of Kings and I know he is having the best time.

As quickly as the tears had been turned off, reading her paragraph about all that Noah had done, brought them back in full stream... this time I wasn't angry, but proud, happy and so thankful for those 12 days.  So full of admiration in my son that others had seen what I had witnessed first hand in getting to be his mother.  She was right, Noah wasn't just a miracle to us, be he was that to others as well... even a woman, another mother, with whom our eyes had never met.

When I learned that Noah has passed away, my heart grieved.  I've never felt grief like that before.  I prayed through tears and was overwhelmed with the presence of our Lord.  Angie and Jarrett, God shared with me a vivid picture that I want to share with you.  As I prayed for your family, this is what I saw...

At first I saw a picture of Jesus.  He was wearing his white rob and he was shining brighter than any star.  In his arms, he held a very small and frail baby boy.  I know it was Noah.  He was gazing upon him and all that was coming out of his eyes was love for Noah.  He had him safely in his arms and was caring for him just as you did Angie.  Noah looked so peaceful in the arms of Jesus.

Next I saw Jesus again and this time Noah was on his hip.  Noah was chubby!  He had this smile that would light up any room and his hair was all kinds of blond.  He was a beautiful baby boy and he and Jesus were the best of buddies!  Noah was so healthy and full of life!"

I also heard the Holy Spirit say to me... "Tell them how much Noah loves them."  I wanted you to know Angie and Jarrett that Noah loves you.  He knew of your presence around him as he laid in the NICU and he loved to smell you and feel your hands against his skin.  He never got the chance to say it himself, but he thought you were the "BEST" parents in the entire world.  He loved that God chose you to be his mommy and daddy and he is so thankful that you let him go live with Jesus.  He is so happy and he can't wait to hug you both again when you join him in Heaven.

The streaks of mascara permanently smeared across my face, were being scrubbed away by more tears that followed.  I looked up from the letter into Jarrett's eyes, and I said, "I feel like I've just received a letter from Heaven telling me what Noah's life is like there."  Jarrett wiped away his tears and said, "It is just so nice to know this person shared with us what she saw.  It's so reassuring."  It's such a comfort as I've wondered what Heaven must be like for him, I said.  "Dad," I paused, "He's chubby."  as my voice cracked and trailed off.  The weeping returned, not because of sadness but in gladness, thanks to the hope, the vision, the comfort shared in her words.

I had this bracelet made for you Angie.  Not only do I hope it brings you some sort of comfort, but I hope you see it as a small way to carry Noah with you each day.  I also have one with my daughter's name on it and I rarely leave the house without it on.  I hope you like it and I hope it reminds you of your precious baby boy every time you look at it.  I had the angel charm put on it as well because you were always referring to him as your angel.

I reached into the gift bag and pulled out another small cloth bag.  I opened the draw strings and pulled out a beautiful Noah bracelet.  It is baby blue, reads my son's name, the name I hoped I'd grow so accustom to seeing over the years that I'd take it for granted... but that was not to be.  Seeing Noah's name now is so special to me, a visual reminder of the gift I was given and loved more than life.  The gift I had to let go home to our maker.  I put the precious gift on my wrist and fastened it tightly, telling Jarrett I'm going to wear this until it falls off of me someday, and then I'm going to find a way to fix it so I can wear it again.

I know the road ahead of you is long but please know that I, and many others continue to pray for your family on a daily basis.  I pray that God will bring you great joy in the days ahead.  Keep your heads up and try to continue putting one foot in front of the other.  Jesus is by your side.  He will sustain you through this time.  I send all my love and prayers!

Sincerely,

Your friend in the faith

I set the letter down, I looked down at the gift she had given me, and I felt happy.  I sincerely felt happy.  I looked at Jarrett and said, "Dad, this is from a complete stranger... and the comfort and reassurance she's provided to us... I'm blown away. "  Jarrett hugged me, I embraced him back... and together we stood up from the table and walked to our room to go to bed.  Her gift, her letter, so powerful, so meaningful, and the answer to my prayers... yet again.

In the days since that gift bag arrived at our house and made its way to our dining room table, I've read her letter over and over.  I've taken it to work with me, kept it in my bag when I felt so weak and needed a reminder to have faith, "Noah is so happy..."   I took the letter with me to San Diego and I kept it near me each day as I journeyed through grief on that bench I sat for hours.   

I have no idea who this special person is but I'm so thankful she shared how her life was impacted because of Noah.  And I so indebted to her for what she gave us, gave me.  Her messages of hope, of continuing to have faith even though there will be no answers, and to be confident our son is in a place of happiness, of comfort and where he is no longer held by the limitations of his tiny body that restricted him here.  My son is chubby!  What a wonderful vision that is to me. And what peace is gives me.  I can find that reminder by looking down at my wrist and seeing the four letters put together to make my angels name... N O A H.  

I said it last night, I'll say it tonight and I'll probably preach this for the rest of my days here... the kindness, love and support we felt from all of you because of our son's arrival is one of the greatest gifts this experience has brought us, second probably only to the gift of our son himself.  

I am moved beyond words most days when I reflect, when Jarrett and I talk and think about just how much love has been showered upon us.  It is honestly what has carried us through.  We feel God carrying us through the barren, desert sand.  We feel so many of you continuing to care, to pray for us, and to spread kindness with others, because of a tiny 1 pound 11 ounce baby boy that laid in a NICU and taught us about making the world a little kinder, more caring, more abundantly aware of the many blessings around us.

Thank you my new friend in the faith... while I may never know your name or meet you face to face, I hope you know in your heart, you've given a mother with a broken heart, a reason to keep going.  And finally, those multi-colored pens you used to write that beautiful letter...  I never knew a letter could look like a rainbow,  but I think you've done just that.  

Until next time,

Angie