Thank you, Serenity Joy

The greatest test for a mother.

The worst tragedy you can image. What it is? I mean, as a mom?

Is it running late for an important event? Getting juice spilled on you from your toddler's leaking sippy cup because in you're in a hurry and you didn't screw the lid on right? Is it finding a rip in your skirt after you arrived to an outing for a special party? How about your husband doing something you least expected at a time when you were not ready for it? A car accident? A sick child in the hospital? Or a complete utter surprise that will forever change the picture of your family? Like a death of a child?

I think the latter pretty much sums up what we moms are most afraid of.  All these other things are merely nonsense, even though they don't seem to be at the moment.  Imagine the last night you put your baby to bed. The last kiss you gave her that she returned with a smile. The last time you read his favorite book.  Or perhaps the last time you had to discipline this little disciple. Most often, we don't take the time to consider that any of these things are actually the last time we do anything with these little people.  However, for some, it is.  And most often, they are taken for granted. 

Why is my post so depressing today you wonder? I have crossed a milestone marker in my life as a mom.  *I* have NOT lost a child.  But, I have had it come too close to home in a couple of friends in the exact past year.  Most recently, just last week, actually.  This little girl's death had hit me hard, and for a number of reasons.  Keep in mind, that I have never asked God, "Why?!" until yesterday.  I guess this is where WISDOM comes from.  All these events that rock our lives in the unexpected way.  This precious little angel at age 6, had Down Syndrome and was a beam of light to all those who knew her.  She was from a family of 12 children.  Her parents are faithful Christians and live with the Eternal Hope. She was found, tragically, drowned; an accident with heartbreaking outcome. When I heard this, all I could picture was her mother holding her like in the movies, babe in arms, dripping wet, screaming out all the life that her baby ever brought into her life. I was crushed. I was so incredibly torn to pieces.  This is what I imagined I would do if I was her.  Do I know the exact details, no. Did I ask, of course not.  But, either way, the horrid storm of storms began.  And so the greatest test of mothers ever to be had. Many of the following thoughts are what crossed my mind as I waited in the calling hours line to give my condolences to the family. 

The Blessed Virgin Mother, Mary, the Mother of Jesus.... had to endure being engulfed by the ginormous wave of weakness and heartache too.  She had to endure the test of her human nature, will, and submission to God. Giving her own Son up for sacrifice on that holy cross for us. She had to watch him suffer a tragic death. And she COULD NOT STOP IT. She could not keep Him, for He was not Hers anymore to keep. I imagine that in the movie, The Passion of the Christ, at the moment He perished, it was fitting for her to drop the sand from her hand as if the life of her was gone, after so tightly squeezing her fists in anxiety and sorrow, is what I would also feel to hear the words, "He is gone."

My connection to this precious family is from a few angles. The most prominent one is that the Mrs. and myself share something in common: both of our children have Down Syndrome. This makes the death of Serenity Joy somewhat personal to me, as the faces of our children are so similar.  The death of any child is traumatic and rough, but I have to add that the extra chromosome means you are loosing something extra special too, when that child passes on.  It makes it a little different, not harder, but different, I'd imagine. This little girl was a perfect angel /gift/light/saint from God.  The joy that the smiles of her face bring are irresistible and healing almost.  I know this because I have a child who does the same for me, for us. I cannot imagine loosing Sebastian.  I cannot fathom the loneliness and the dreariness of the day without him. And with that, my heart is aching for Cindy and Dave.  I know the sort of things they are dreading to miss in Serenity.  I know that fear of the heartache after things settle down.... or seem to settle down.  The nuances of the everyday and the responses from the baby girl they wont hear or see anymore are terrifying.  It isn't fair that God took her.  She was too young. We ALL still needed her. 

We all need Jesus and Our Lady this way.  We cannot live, breathe, hope or experience true joy without them.  Serenity's life teaches me so many lessons that I didn't realize that I could learn from, even as a mom.  Her Down Syndrome reminds me how wonderful this extra chromosome is, and how sad it is that so many like her and Sebastian are wiped from the life they deserve through abortion.  If only people and mothers could know what they would miss! I have shed tears, and tears over this great loss of life.  I hope that God will help me to sort out all the lessons I am to learn from this event. I still ache for her life.  I didn't want this news to be real.

Photo used with permission from the McCarthy family

Today at Mass, Deacon Dean prayed for Serenity Joy.  I posted on Facebook my thoughts of the day.  I reminded Serenity's dad that she will be their cheerleader in Heaven, and he told me that she was nicknamed "Pom Pom".  How sweet.  I hugged my friends.  I saw Sebastian's little features in the features of the few others with Downs at the church.

From my Facebook post:

Its just unbelievable. The rain. On today. My heart sinks like an anchor from a boat in the midst of a storm. The winds have blown. The excitedness of the shock wears down. And what is left? The brokenness of the ship somehow remains afloat and carries on by Gods Miracle. The passenger departed becomes the angel guiding the crew to safety.... the passenger somehow becomes the intercessor at the crews request. She is a champion for those she leaves behind. God will not turn His Merciful ears away from such a champion. I will see her face everyday in the face of my boy. Her name means the calm after this storm. Peace returns. Serenity is all that remains. And Gods Glory is victorious in the hearts of all those who knew this little champion on this ship. Fly away and kiss the face of the Holy Captain, dear sweet Serenity. 😇😇😇😇

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Today at Mass, one of the readings were from Hebrews12:5-7, 11-13

To sum it up, "Those whom the Lord loves, he disciplines."

Why would this be relevant?  Because to discipline literally means to train up; to make disciples.  Every good Christian I know believes that God is refining us through our trials. 

From this scripture, it says,

 "So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be disjoined, but healed."

This is my encouragement for all my moms and friends weak from loosing a child, or even suffering with the ailments your children are suffering.  It is what Our Lady had to do.  The late Mother Angelica also reminds us, "Suffering without love, is wasted pain." So, we give this heartache and all these tears and all this pain to God that He will use it to bring more souls to Himself, which will bring His Glory.

Also remember what St. James the Apostle reminds us of in James 1:2, "Count it all joy." It is hard to do.  I know its hard.  But we are encouraged to FIND it anyhow.  And we will.  We must just cling to God and the tender love of Jesus.

Oh, my dear, dear, precious friends.  How I wish I could do something more than what I can do to help ease your pain.  I am here for you.  The Lord is hear for you.  Rest your tired and sore hearts upon his flaming Heart of Love. Serenity is waiting for you to know Him the way she does now.  May God's Blessing flow out to you, today, tomorrow and each day to come.  All my prayers and love.  xo

To God be the Glory! And in this storm, know that the calm will come.