Little Burt Changed My Life

In October of 1986, I gave birth to our firstborn son. Though he died an hour before he entered this world, his life has impacted me forever.

The discovery of this pregnancy had filled me with utter joy.  Newly married, this child represented a new season in my life.  The nursery was eagerly prepared ahead of time, each item hand made with meticulously chosen fabrics.  “Housewife life” was a joy to my hotel weary heart, and daily tasks represented the luxury of no longer traveling and singing. What a privilege it was to have a little nest of my own! 

In the midst of labor, our son's heartbeat disappeared.  I was running a high fever due to infection, and my doctor decided it was necessary to evacuate my womb. Grief hung like a heavy cloud as I labored for another hour. When my husband, Burt, and I were finally able to hold our son's lifeless body, we stroked his perfect little hands and memorized his fragile 1.5 pound frame.  These short moments were the fruit of almost 24 hours of labor. 

There’s nothing anyone can say when a child dies; no platitudes will suffice.  Though we don't willingly choose to suffer, grief will visit all of us at some point. It will change and soften us, silencing our ready-made pat answers.

As a newborn believer, I had gratefully splashed around in the love of God. In all of the "doing for Him" the focus somehow changed to earning His approval.

As I held my tiny little boy, I experienced a love pure and deep, free from all vestiges of performance.  In his incompleteness, I loved him completely, simply because he was mine.

Thank you, Little Burt.  You have forever changed me.

"And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father."