Photos

                First born son
           David Jonathan Young.
          Beloved gift of God.
          How we love you
          And you are God’s gift to the world.
          The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.
           Blessed be the name of the Lord.


          Goodbye
     Never easy.
     How we miss you.
     But you have gone to a better place.
      There’s an empty place at all family celebrations.
     And I am left with albums full of photos and memories.
This is what the Lord says.  “Forget the former things, do not dwell on the past.   See – I am doing a new thing!   Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?   I am making a way in the desert and streams on the wasteland.”


      New  Mother
     You didn’t know how hard it would be.
     When you saw that first scan, felt that  first bubble of life, gazed at miniature baby clothes, you didn’t know.
    All your dreams for your child, 9 months of bonding, of loving, of anticipation.

You didn’t know you’d have to kneel at his graveside having had only had half a day to show your love to him, to touch him, to know him.   You didn’t know you’d be called on to watch him die.   You didn’t know what motherhood would demand of you.
But you have a mother’s heart and only the strength of God will get you through.



                                   First born son
                 Zachary Samuel Young
              How you love him.
            His little life was God’s gift to the world.
            The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.
            Blessed be the name of the Lord.


Goodbye
     Never easy.
     How you miss him.
     But he has gone to a better place.
      There’s an empty place in your lives
    And you are left with only  videos, photos and memories.

            New Daddy
  You didn’t expect the hard demands of fatherhood.    The hardest things you’ve ever had to do.
“I can do all things through him who gives me strength”

But you took the challenge and  turned a funeral into  a celebration because you know that your son is with the Lord and you will see him again.   You know that his life counted and that it was not all in vain and this is not the end.
“Be still my soul; thy God doth undertake                                                              to guide the future as he has the past.                                                                Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;                                                           All now mysterious shall be bright at last.”



    Balloons and paper planes.
    Symbols of life and celebration.    How dichotomous is our experience.   We can only trust the Lord of Life and Death.

Thank You

It’s awesome how kind people can be.   It just takes a tragedy to make one realise it.   We have been inundated with messages of support, condolences, prayers from wonderful people – some of whom I know only slightly.   The Biology department gave me a bunch of flowers and a beautiful statuette of an angel sitting next to an orb holding a candle.   I will treasure it and always remember Zachary when I see it. possibly light it every year on his birthday.

I got flowers from the Moll family and a beautiful golden potted rose from Lesley, my best friend.   She said pink was too girlish, white was too bland, red was more romantic love so yellow was golden and therefore something precious.   It will come with us to our new house and will also remind me of Zachary.

I got phone calls from the church, the prayer chain, one of the pastors.   Thank you to everybody who has supported us by messages, SMS’s, phone calls, gifts.   You might think they were insignificant and that nothing you can say can really help us but really it is just the accumulated love and support that is getting us through.

  Going to church this morning was a challenge.   I took tissues with me.   Couldn’t sing the first song.   It’s amazing how worship brings tears to the surface.

One of the ladies from the prayer team, Denise Law, who is very close to the Lord, said she had been praying a lot for Zach when she first got the message.   When she heard that he had died she questioned the Lord.   The answer she got was Zach’s little life would make a difference for the Kingdom.   It is David’s future, not his past.   Not quite sure how to interpret that but I know the Lord knows and I trust him even when I don’t understand.

The closing hymn was God’s word for me today.

"Be Still, My Soul"
by Catharina von Schlegel, 1697-?
Translated by Jane Borthwick, 1813-1897

1. Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly, Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

2. Be still, my soul; thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

3. Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart
And all is darkened in the vale of tears;
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.
Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay
From His own fulness all He takes away.

4. Be still, my soul; the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Hymn #651
The Lutheran Hymnal
Text: Psalm 46:10

Gratitude

The following is an extract from Max Lucado' book, "Every Day derseves a Chance."

Excerpts from the diary of a dog:

8.00 a.m. Oh boy, dog food - my favourite.
9.30 a.m. Oh boy, a car ride - my favourite.
9.40 a.m. Oh boy, a walk - my favourite.
10.30 a.m. Oh boy, another car ride - my favourite.
11.30 a.m. Oh boy, more dog food - my favourite.
12.00 p.m. Oh boy, the kids - my favourite.
1.00 p.m. Oh boy, the yard - my favourite.
4.00 p.m. Oh boy, the kids again - my favourite.
5.00 p.m. Oh boy, dog food again - my favourite.
5.30 p.m. Oh boy, Mom, my favourite.
6.00 p.m. Oh boy, playing ball - my favourite.
8.30 p.m. Oh boy, sleeping in my master's bed - my favourite.

Exerpts from the diary of a cat:

Day 283 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre litlle dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat while I'm forced to eat dry cereal. I'm sustained by the hope of escape and the mild satisfaction I derive from ruining a few pieces of furniture. Tomorrow i may eat another houseplant. I attempted to kill my captors this morning by weaving through their walking feet. Nearly succeeded. Must try this strategy at the top of the stairs. Seeking to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favourite chair. Must try this on their bed. To display my diabolical disposition, I decapitated a mouts and deposited the headless body on their kitchen floor. They only cooed and condescended, patting my head and calling me a "strong little kitty". Hmm - not working according to plan. During a gathering of their accomplices, they placed me in solitary confinement. I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of allergies. Must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other household captives are flunkies, perhaps snitches. The dog is routinely pleased and seems natively happy to return. He is, no doubt, a half-wit. The bird speaks with the humans regularly. Must be an informant. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal cage, his safety is assured, but I can wait.

The day of a dog. The day of a cat. One content, the other conniving. One at peace, the other at war. One grateful, the other grumpy. Same house. Same circumstances."

I have always thought myself a cat person. Now I am going to work at being a dog. I would like to be grateful for all things and enjoy whatever comes my way.