you are probably wondering when i am going to get back to blogging about my own children! i'm sorry if it seems strange that i have written so much about this little girl that i never knew, but as i shared in the last few posts, maddie's family has been on my heart so much lately, and her death has caused me to continually evaluate my daily life with my children. so bear with me as i share this one last post about maddie's funeral. for those of you who have been praying for her family and following her story on this site, i wanted to share this encouraging email from maddie's dad. i am sure we can all learn something from this family's faith, and we can join together in praising God for His presence through all of this.
Tuesday January 22, 2008
When I rose yesterday morning, the first thing I did was pray that the day would pass quickly, convinced that it would be one of the hardest, saddest days for our family. All week I envisioned my legs buckling at the sight of Maddie’s casket. I imagined falling on my face and sobbing at the cemetery. I thought about Anna and Sam and how they would be affected by the overwhelming gloom of the day. But you know, none of those things happened. There were occasional quiet tears and a few runny noses, but somehow peace prevailed. I looked over at Cindy a number of times and asked, “Are you okay?” and she looked back at me with the same curious disbelief and said, “Yeah, I am.” I could not understand why we were not overcome with the grief I was expecting. My suspicion was that all of you ever-faithful prayer warriors were still lifting our family up (a fact that was confirmed by the flood of emails and guestbook entries). I failed to take the advice in Philippians 4 that says, “Do not be anxious about anything . . .” but the next familiar verse that says ‘God will provide a peace that transcends all understanding’ showed up anyway. I’ve said it. I’ve read it. Now we have experienced it. Madeline endured long-suffering and managed to wear a smile through most of it. How could we possibly do less? In the end, the day went by too fast.
Attendance was completely overwhelming, which blessed us tremendously, but also left us wishing we had had more time. I can think of a dozen people right off the top of my head who caught my eye, but were never able to make contact. There were so many familiar faces from our families at Christ Memorial, New Life and Cornerstone Churches. Then there were numerous families we had never met before, who learned of Maddie through friends of friends, and had been praying for her and following her story. Some of them traveled a considerable distance to say hello and goodbye. Finally, there was the hospital staff. We knew Becky and Maree were coming, because they were in the program and we figured that a few others might make it as well, but we had no idea that half the team would show up! Just about every department and discipline was represented, with doctors, nurses, specialists, therapists, etc. It felt like we were on rounds for the last time. You cannot imagine how much it meant to all of us to see you there. (Actually it kind of ticked me off, because I was holding it together until you showed up!) I know there were many more who wanted to come, but couldn’t. You were in our thoughts as well. Maddie loved you all.
We were overrun by people telling us it was the most beautiful and uplifting and hopeful funeral they had ever seen. We agree. We are so grateful to everyone who shared our Madeline and contributed to make it a perfect day. The message was perfect. The music was perfect. The weather was perfect. The walk from the church to the cemetery and up to the hilltop was perfect. The reception was perfect. And the food . . . did I mention the food? No one is going hungry in our house, thanks to the never-ending river of food that is flowing through our front door. If eating is supposed to ease pain and sorrow, then I am the happiest guy on earth! Can we just say thanks to everyone for everything? You are in our hearts and on our minds.
When the curtain came down and the crowd dispersed, Cindy and I had a chance to walk back up the hill and share some quiet time alone and consider the day. The sun was just setting over the Olympic mountains and Liberty bay below was still. It was hard to look at the ground and imagine her buried there, having just had her in our arms last week. We tell the kids that that is just an empty shell, but I still long for it. – just human I guess. I have lump in my throat that I can’t quite clear and my voice cracks if I travel too far down memory lane. She lived with grace, but I never would have thought a three year old could die with grace. Then again, Madeline did a lot of things that surprised us.
We’re not sure what the future of her legacy will be. Some folks have mentioned keeping the web page alive, but Maddie was pretty much the cornerstone of that effort. We believe that God used Maddie for His own glory. He spared her by taking her out of this place, but I cannot believe that the He would have wanted the ministry to cease. It has always been bigger than us and we really want to keep it. However, when Maddie was first diagnosed and we searched the internet for information on her condition, we found no hope in stories that ended in death. For that reason we agreed when we started Madeline’s web site, that we would take it down in the event of the ultimate bad news. We don’t want to sap the hope from another family. We will be praying and listening for direction in the coming weeks and months. Maybe we’ll slap the story in a binder and publish it.
continue to pray for maddie's family! if i receive any more updates, i will do my best to share how they are doing.
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