I remember when Zeke was in the ER at Shawnee Mission Medical and I looked at the clock as it approached midnight. I thought, "Surely he will be fine. August 24th is Aunt Ann's birthday." Just nine months before our visit to the ER my aunt died suddenly, presumably of a heart attack. She was the only aunt I knew and my mother's only sibling. So that night, as we watched the medical staff fight to keep Zeke breathing I could only ask for God's mercy and believe that he would let August 24th continue to be a day of celebration.
But just a few hours later, after a safe transport to Children's Mercy Hospital, the staff ran out of options. Our son was connected to tubes and machines and he wasn't making any progress. At one point, when the doctor told us he thought Zeke had a 50/50 chance we truly believed this was good news. The L-rd was going to work a radical miracle and bring our little guy around. We prayed that even though Zeke coded several times, for too many minutes to count, that the Creator of the universe would bring Zeke back to complete and perfect health. But we believed it would happen on this side of eternity.
We left the hospital that morning stunned. I am still overwhelmed by the thought of that day. It is incomprehensible to me. One day we had our beautiful Ezekiel John, named after Aunt Ann's husband, and the next day we were left with empty arms.
Writing this I feel a deep pain inside. I'm still disappointed that we only got ten days with him and that if he had remained with us he would be a three year old. But comfort comes with the truth of the word of G-d. I've posted it before, and I'll probably continue to post 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 because it is now a part of me, part of my story:
Now, brothers, we want you to know the truth about those who have died; otherwise,
you might become sad the way other people do who have nothing to hope for.
For since we believe that Yeshua died and rose again, we also believe that in the same way God, through Yeshua, will take with him those who have died.