I wanted to share something that I just read. So I will first just post this here and then I will add some of my thoughts:
On April 7, 2001, the unthinkable happened. It was a beautiful sunny day and my wife and I were out in the backyard taking pictures with our son, Sam (who at the time was almost 4) and our daughter, Delaney (who was 16 months old). After the hot Florida sun became unbearable, we went inside to cool off.
I had been playing with Sam in the living room and I assumed Delaney was with my wife, Becky, in the bedroom. After awhile I called out, “Is Delaney with you?” “I thought she was with you,” Becky answered. My blood ran cold. It had been too long not to have heard or seen her. I knew that she had become increasingly curious about the lake behind the house so I instantly sprinted out the back door toward the lake.
As I came over the top of the hill I saw her. That vivid, horrible image will remain buried in my mind until the day I die. There was our sweet Delaney floating face down about ten feet out from the shore. “Oh my God!” I yelled Not breaking stride, I ran down the hill to the shore and with one bound I reached her. “Call and ambulance!” I yelled again. I carried her to shore and laid her pale, limp body in the grass. Our neighbor, an ex-marine, ran over and immediately began CPR on her, but I knew it was too late. I feel to the ground and from the bottom of my soul and with all the strength I had in me, I wailed.
I don’t know if you’ve ever actually wailed before———I hadn’t until that day. I had cried, I had wept, I would even say that I had agonized. But until that moment had never wailed. I can still hear it. How awful it sounded. I could write a hundred books and never adequately describe how I felt. I would only argue that is the lowest point a human can reach during this lifetime. Once you reach that point, as you would imagine, you never look at anything in life the same way again.
I’m a real “bottom line” type of guy, so let me tell you what my bottom line is now that this experience is a part of my life. I have two sons now. My life’s number one goal is to lead my sons to a saving faith in Jesus Christ. What else is there? A hundred years from now it won’t matter whether they drove a tow truck or the space shuttle. They’ll be dead just like Delaney. The only important question is, will they be with Delaney and Becky and me in heaven, or will they be in hell? A hundred years from now, where will your kids be? Where will you be?
It has been my pleasure to have Kirk Cameron’s friendship for almost fifteen years. He is an incredible example of a loving husband and father, and a loyal friend. He and his family embraced us in our tragedy and for that my family and I are forever grateful.
More important, Kirk and his ministry partner, Ray Comfort, are wholly committed to fulfilling the command of Jesus Christ to “go into all the world and preach the gospel.” That’s not only their message, but their mission. In other words, this is what they do, not just what they tell others to do. I also know they would both tell you that this mission starts first and foremost in their own homes.
Since Delaney died——-I’ve said this countless times but it never seems to lose its potency—-as much as it hurts when I replay in my mind the events of April 7th, I can live with that. I can live with the rest of my life here on earth without my precious little Delaney, and I can bear it. She’s well taken care of. In fact I’ll never have one single worry about her again. She’s in heaven; that’s a done deal and not even Satan can take that away. What I can’t bear is the thought of spending eternity without any one of my children. I love them too much not to devote my life to leading them toward a saving faith in Jesus Christ.
I don’t think that I love my kids any more or less than anyone else. I’m no super dad, or super Christian for that matter. But God has given me a perspective in my life that not everyone shares, and for that I’m thankful, and I intend to do something about it. Life is too short not to.
So after reading the above from a dad who lost his daughter in an accident it all came back to me. Since I am the one who found Eli the day that he died that memory is forever burned into my brain and sometimes I wish that I could “not go there”. Sometimes it is just too hard. But on the flip side, I know where Eli is. I know that he is with His father who loves him more than I ever could. I know that Eli is happy as there are no tears in heaven. I know that Eli will not sin, he will not fall away from his faith, he will not have regrets. And even though it seems like a very long time until I will see my baby again, I am not sure on the number of days that I have. Only God knows that and I put all of my trust in Him.
So do we go on? Absolutely. There is a choice, we can stay defeated, depressed, unable to care for ourselves and families (which Satan wants!!!!) or we can choose to listen and obey God’s word. I might not want to get out of bed, but I will obey. I might not want to read another story to my child, but I will obey. I might not want to go on living, but I will obey. And soon, it becomes part of the routine and daily life again. Soon I enjoy doing the job of motherhood that God has called me to do. I enjoy doing this work! Isn’t this what we teach our children? That we must obey whether they feel like it; whether they want to; whether they understand why. Just to obey for the sake of obeying and through that, our Father brings us out of the pit of despair. Only He can do that, we must do our part to seek Him, know Him, and obey Him.