This vacation backyard, aswarm with cousins, stretched into a grassy commons that covered an entire block. Most of the these kids were big enough to be unattended but Tristan was only two years old so my eyes constantly kept an account of his bobbing golden head.
I remember the split-second of horror when I couldn’t see him anymore. No, no, surely he just toddled into the house here. I went into commando mode casing every room as I yelled out to all adults within earshot- ‘I can’t find Tristan!” Half of me expected to see him standing innocently in the next room but all of me was acting quickly to save him from gone forever. Because that’s what we fear as moms, the gone forever.
My bones became water as I realized the house was empty. Every adult fanned out into the commons calling “Tristaaaaaan!” I scanned each stranger’s yard praying, God, please, I need him, please show us, You know where He is, please not this…
Each minute that passed was more unbelievable than the last. Why wasn’t that moment of relief showing up where I could realize my panic was all in vain? I banished gone forever with each frantic stride but most of me knew it was all up to God anyway so how could I keep it from coming true?
Gone forever didn’t happen that day. I fell to my knees when I saw my big brother Dan with Tristan tucked in his arms. “He’s here, I’ve got him!” Dan called out as he choked back tears. Tristan had toddled all the way up the commons and was just starting to step into a busy boulevard when God had a family pull over to scoop him up.
Danny knelt down and we hugged together, cocooning this precious little boy. Too late vanished and relief settled in.
As parents, we spend our entire lives keeping our children safe from the gone forever. We can’t banish it anymore by shear resolve and dutiful determination. No, that split-second of horror tucked itself away in our hearts the minute they died. It can resurrect itself at will and is its own master. Will it rise when we see their shoes, their toothbrush, their handwriting? Will it engulf us or only tremble there a moment before we hear the Truth call out, “He’s here, I’ve got him!”
God’s got them. With that we can calm our beleaguered hearts.
“He’s here, I’ve got him!”
And one day, gone won’t even be a functional word except for things like: tears, pain, missing, and apart.
In that day, gone will be gone. Forever.
Dear God, You know we all long for that day. It can’t come soon enough for us. There is so much goneness in this world! We yearn for face-to-face fellowship with You like in the Garden of Eden. And we ache for the us of our children that once was. You know. You know it all. Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Save me from myself. In Your most Holy and precious name, amen.
