Hannah Jane

Last night as I lay in bed crying and grieving for friends that are going through one of the worst pains I can imagine, the loss of a child, I was blown away and challenged by the faith of Baby Hannah's parents.  Who could, in the face of that kind of gut-wrenching anguish say, "God is still good and working out His will."  This is the kind of faith built through years of trust and refined through walking a path no one would chose.  This is the kind of faith I hope I have, but never wish to test.  This is the kind of faith that stands in the faces of scoffers who say "faith" is just a crutch.  A crutch?  No - a crutch would be alcohol...or food...or death...anything that would numb or temporarily or permanently take away the pain.  There is nothing easy about facing such incredible grief, but a crutch isn't about facing it.  Faith takes courage and strength...and pardon the expression, balls.  It says, I will not run from this pain, but will walk through it knowing, believing, trusting that God is walking through it too.  Faith like this makes no sense.  And yet at the same time it makes more sense to me then anything else.  Faith like this takes a supernatural grace...not just for today or tomorrow with all the hard things each day will bring, but for every day and every milestone to come.  As I was praying this grace over Ben and Rochelle last night, I was reminded of another family who has experienced this type of pain and faced it with this kind of faith.  I don't know them, but their journey has also challenged me.  The challenge that Ben wrote in the midst of his hurt and honest confusion was to love more deeply, lead with grace, see and embrace beauty, and never be afraid to try no matter what the cost. This is the challenge of that little girl's parents...this is the legacy of Hannah Jane.  Her name means Grace a Gift of God.  And what a gift she was and Oh what an amazing Grace Ben and Rochelle have been given.