My First Last Time

Someone gave me a book right after I gave birth to my fourth child. The book, Let Me Hold You Longer by Karen Kingsbury begins by talking about the miracle of firsts:  first smiles and teeth and baby steps, but quickly turns the message of the book into the memories of a lifetime of lasts...the last time her baby woke up crying, wanted to be rocked, etc.  It ends with these words:

"I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.
Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last."

Receiving this book at just five days post-partum, I quickly became a basket case of tears.  I knew this child would be my last, and her name, Cari Jill, which literally means "Youth Flowing Like Water" reminds me every day of the precious gift that is her life.  It's easy to wish away the moments, the days, the years as we yearn for a time when things will be easier, when our children will be more independent, or when we can finally realize the wishes that hover in our personal dreams.  Cari Jill is just three years old, and truly I have treasured every minute.  I give thanks to God everyday that he has allowed me to be her mother.

This week, however, I spent time with another mother, a mother who has just one child, a child dying of cancer.  I was with this family the night before their son died, and all I could think was, "This is their last time to touch his hand, to hold him tight, to tell him that they love him."  In a very real sense, this mother was holding on to what was literally going to be her "precious last."  It was a very intimate and personal time, and I was an intruder.  I wanted to take a picture of these two parents in the bed with their son, holding onto him for dear life while at the same time begging him to run into Jesus' arms.  The dichotomy of the agony was riveting.

"I've watched you grow and barely noticed
seasons as they pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time,
I'd hold on to your lasts."

We are a society wholly focused on the firsts.  We want to be the first-born, the first in line, the first place winner.  In our quest to be first, we overlook the value of what it means to be last.  And yet, here we are thanking God for this last time, a lifetime.  What an honor and a privilege for me to be there at the last!

We know that this world is not our home, and although God has given us houses, and things, and CHILDREN even, they do not belong to us either.  It all belongs to God, and our treasure is with him in Heaven.  For my friends, the thing they loved the most, their only son, is there.  He is in Heaven, and though they loved him here on earth, surely they can accept his new life in Heaven.  Now, he is treasure there.  Finding comfort in God's word, we read,  "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy , and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Yes, their treasure is in heaven.  Those words have new meaning for this family.  And it was nothing short of pure privilege for me to hold onto them as they were holding onto their son and Jesus was wrapping his arms around all of us.

Although it was the last time we held this child on earth, I pray that God's grace will sustain this mother because it wasn't really her last time.  Thankfully, God's kingdom is eternal.  It has no beginning and no end.  Last times are painful and full of sorrow.  In 2 Corinthians 5:1, however, it says,  "Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands."  Perhaps that sorrow and that empty place left there by this child's passing will one day be replaced with the joy of the gift that was his life and the peace of knowing that he is with Jesus and that one day we will be too.

My first last time gave me new perspective on the events that shape a lifetime.