Behr Turns One
A birthday week to treasure.
The grief of watching Behr surpass the age of our daughter in heaven wrecked me. Heart, mind, body, and soul.
There is something very tender about watching one child outlive another.
It wasn’t until the week of Behr’s birthday that I could wake up and be okay with the idea. I could suddenly imagine the sweetness of holding my one year old, I could think about the schedule of weaning him, I could smile without doubts in my head that maybe Behr wouldn’t make it there.
During the week, the excitement of a birthday began to hit my heart again. I made Behr a little banner across our mantel—a little birthday tradition I’d started with Isaiah and continued over the years and Isaiah and I made lots of cakes to stack and decorate once his birthday arrived.
Wednesday morning I woke up feeling a deep sense of peace was padded across our home into the boys room. The morning sun filtered through our door giving the appearance of rainbows across almost every surface of our home—something I hadn’t noticed until the morning after Behr was born.
Behr stood in his crib reaching his little arms out to me. Tears began to leak down my face. I laughed in surprise at their presence. I hadn’t expected the swell of emotion just at the sight of him.
I picked him up and held him tight.
There is something special about milestones of our Earthly children after loss. They become much more sacred.
We know how short life can be. We know how precious these days are.
Over the last year the Lord has been so gracious to us. He’s faithfully guided us through every day as we’ve navigated grief and joy.
Delivering a baby into a sad and grieving reality is something we never imagined for our family. It’s certainly not something we would have chosen, yet God has continued to comfort and sustain us in our times of need. Isaiah 42 has spoken life into my heart as we approached Behr’s birthday.
“Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. He will not grow faint or be discouraged till he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his law.”
The Lord mends my broken heart with tenderness. He cares when the fire is dying inside of me, and while I grow weary, he will not faint.