Friday, October 15, 2010

Heroes of Today

Tonight Mari, Tori, and I were invited to attend an event called "Wave of Light", a pregnancy and infant loss Remembrance Day celebrated internationally.  At 7 p.m. we all lit a candle.  All over the world, no matter what time zone people were in, candles were lit so that a wave of light would cross the earth to remember and celebrate the precious little ones who have been lost. 

It was such a spiritual evening; it is difficult to blog about.  It was so touching to be able to meet Avery's mom, Candi, for the first time.  She is my hero of today.  I am really having a hard time trying to put into words the things I am feeling.  Most of all I am just so grateful I was able to meet and be in the presence of so many incredible families who have suffered through what I believe is the most crushing challenge I can imagine, losing a child.  Candi and her husband, Skeet, have been "pushed down" more times than I can comprehend, and through reading Candi's blog I have seen her get up time and time again after what seemed like more hardships and losses than any soul could bear.  I love her for exposing her heart and her feelings about everything, but especially her love for her angel daughter.  I love her for being so honest.  If you read her blog, you will know what I mean, and you will love her too. 

A story was read called "The White Roses," and it really puts beautifully into words how I feel about all of them.  They are the best of the best, and I know some day they will be rewarded~
Mari, Candi, Tori, and I


The White Rose




All mothers were gathered together at God’s garden of flowers. The earth’s beautiful budding spirits, who would someday come to earth, were nurtured and tended in the garden. A loving Father spoke to the mothers, “See the works of my hands. Someday you will be the mothers of these radiant spirits.” The garden glowed with the mixture of all kinds and colors. “Choose ye.” He said.



Now in the east corner of the garden, pure White Roses stood as sentinels. They were not as colorful as the rest, but they glowed with a kind of purity, which set them apart. One by one the mothers stepped forward. “I want the blue eyed, curly haired one, who will grow to maturity and be a mother in Zion.” Yet another chose a brown eyed, brown haired boy, full of life and love, who would someday be a prince in a grand country. The garden buzzed with excitement as the others chose their special spirits. Those whom they would soon welcome into the love and warmth of an earthly home.



Once again the loving Father spoke. “But who will take the White Roses? The ones in the east corner of my garden. These will return to me in purity and goodness. They will not stay long in your home, for I must bring them back to my garden. For they belong to me. They will gain bodies as was planned, you will miss them and long for them, but I shall personally care for them.”



“No, not I.” many said in unison. “I couldn’t bear to give one back so soon.” “Nor I.” said others. “We will take those who will remain and grow to maturity and live long lives.” The Father looked out across the multitude of mothers with a longing in his eyes for someone to step forward and speak. Silence.



Then He said, “See the most pure and perfect of the white ones? I have chosen Him. He will go down and be a sacrifice for all mankind. He will be scorned, mocked, and crucified. He is mine own. Will not any one choose like unto Him? A few mothers stepped forward, “Yes, Lord I will” Then another, “Yes, we will Lord” Soon all the pure White Roses were chosen and they rejoiced with their mothers. The Father spoke again, “Oh, blessed are ye who chose the White Roses. For your pain will be a heavy cross to bear. But your joy will be exceeding, beyond anything you can understand at this time.” The White ones embraced their mothers souls with such endearment that each knew she could endure the task. And the greatest of the White ones gathered them as a hen gathers her chicks, and the outpouring of love surrounded each mother and child, consuming them as He prepared them for their task. And each mother who bore the weight of a White Rose felt the overwhelming love of God, as they shouted. “Thy will be done.”



By Myrna Cox