It's surprising the ways through which we see and experience God.
Two weeks ago, I was significantly changed while spending 15 hours in a hospital waiting room. While in Florida, I had the privilege to pray for and be near Lindsey and Kevin Dennis as their precious daughter, Dasah, came into this world. She was born with acrania-- a rare condition in which a baby doesn't develop a skull. (Read more on Lindsey's blog: http://vaporandmist.wordpress.com).
While she was alive, she was fully alive. And now that she has left this world, her parents, family, and church grieve greatly.
I wrote her two letters that day from the waiting room of the hospital. Her gracious parents have let me share this letter, so that others may know the movement of God through Dasah's beautiful and purposeful life.
November 13, 2014
You’re almost 12 hours old!!! You’ve lived 720 minutes!! That’s 720 minutes that you have made your parents so happy—720 minutes that you’ve known life in this strange place.
So, 12 hours later, here’s the update—people haven’t stopped praying for you and your mom and dad. And they keep singing. People feel compelled to talk to God and sing to God because of you. You are leading these people in worship. So, for far more than 720 minutes, you have guided us into praise and seeking God’s face!
Dasah, here’s what strikes me as I watch people singing to Jesus outside of your hospital room. You have been telling the world about God the Creator for 720 minutes straight! You are a tiny little preacher, girl! You have been preaching with each breath, proclaiming with each heartbeat the goodness and mercy of the God who made you. Not everybody likes women preachers, Dasah, but don’t let it stop you!
We are being changed by your voice in this world! Your life is a sermon, Dasah. And that sermon is so powerful. And as your mom and dad hold you, you are broadcasting the reality of a loving God!
But please know that when you’re body gets tired, you’ll keep preaching. When its time to leave this place, your voice will keep declaring God’s goodness. It’s not the words you say or the breaths you take—it’s you, whether you’re here or at home with Jesus. It’s the life you’ve lived. It’s the way you’ve declared the glory of God since he made you 39 weeks ago.
You are carrying the image of God in your perfect little body. And your mom and dad have been faithful to let others see God through you and through their own love, prayers and tears.
As I write this, you’ve left this earth. You’re living with a new voice now. Your mom and dad already miss you more than words could ever say. It’s ok that they hurt—because that’s what it is to love so deeply. And they will never stop missing you, because you are theirs—no matter how long you were here. And now, you are with Jesus. Dasah, you know things your mom and dad and the rest of us don’t know yet. And you’re still guiding us into the heart of God.
You’re still pointing us to Jesus. And you’re still teaching us to rest in an unpredictable love. Thank you for your example. We want to be like you—we want to let our breaths and heartbeat show the world how bright God’s light can be.
Dasah, you are precious and perfect and loved. And your parents have made sure that’s all you’ve known. Perfect love from hurting hearts. And I know that you are worth more to them than you’ll ever know. And, your hands, your heart, your eyes, your soul have brought us all into the deeper places of God. Thank you for changing our world, Dasah! Happy Birthday, beautiful girl! There will never be another you.