As many of you know, a third sweet little one is growing inside of me. I’ve been meaning to write something about this third baby pretty much since I found out I was pregnant…but somehow the words haven’t come. With 28 weeks rapidly approaching on Monday, I thought that now was as good of a time as any to finally write about her. But to do that, I have to go back to the beginning…before this baby was even a possibility in our minds.
We were eating breakfast this morning and, as usual, Miles was talking about a million words per minute. The poor kid is so quiet in public that no one would ever guess how truly capable he is of talking your ear off. I was about to start tuning him out when he said, “And, Mommy, who was it that wanted to sing the ‘Jah Jah’ Song again?”
I was stopped in my tracks. It has been a week, to say the least. Both my grandparents were hospitalized, our downstairs flooded Sunday night, and it seems like it’s been one thing after another proving that, quite literally, when it rains it pours.
But then my sweet 4-year-old asked me about the ‘Jah Jah’ Song.
You see, the ‘Jah Jah’ song is a little family story that was told to me by my mom, and that I, in turn, have told to my son. The story goes that, when my mom and her two younger brothers were children, they and their parents were on a road trip and were singing songs. The youngest, Mark, said he wanted to sing the “Jah Jah Song”. Guesses were thrown out, but nobody could figure out what song he was talking to. Finally, Mark broke down in tears sobbing, “The ‘Jah Jah Song!”. At last something clicked and somebody finally realized what he was talking about…”I’ve Got the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy”.
My heart was warmed that my son would remember such a story. “It was Uncle Mark,” I told him. “When he was a little boy.”
“But now Uncle Mark is all grown up, right?” Miles queried.
A shadow passed over the memory, “Well, yes, he did grow up. But Uncle Mark is in heaven now. He died when I was a baby.”
Miles fell silent for a minute. I knew he was thinking. He’s been wrestling with this concept of dying and going to heaven. He knows that Jesus died on the cross for our sins, but, quite honestly, he doesn’t want to leave his home and his “cozy bed” and move anywhere. Not even heaven.
At last he spoke, “But, Mommy, I will get to see Uncle Mark when I go to heaven. Isn’t that so exciting?”
“Yes, Baby, it is.”
Lord, even in the midst of chaos and hardships, let me see the good. Let me have the faith of a child. Most of all, show me how to shepherd these two precious little hearts you’ve placed in my care. Help me to point them to you.