Tuesday, June 15, 2010


When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" 1 Corinthians 15:54-55

Andrew was seizing. I scooped him into my arms and ran for help, calling down the hall for a doctor or nurse. “Help me! My son is seizing! He’s turning blue! Help me!“ I screamed for help and no one was coming.

I glanced down at Andrew, but instead of my precious boy, I held a writhing blue blob. I screamed and dropped it, horrified and confused. “This is not my son!” I screamed. “Where is my son? What did you do with him? This is not my son!”

I jolted awake, breathing hard. It was only a dream. Andrew was already gone. He’d finally lost his battle with mitochondrial disease and his funeral was tomorrow. Oh how I missed my son! I settled back under the covers, but the dream would not leave me. I hated the feelings it created, the panic, the intensity of fear over what was happening to my son, the truth of my loss. I poured out my grief and unrest to God and a sudden understanding seeped into my soul.

Yes, I felt God agree, this is not your son. What you will be burying, returning to the ground, is not your son. It is the disease you have battled, the pain of your grief, the sinful nature that causes such wrong in this world, and even death itself. These are what have tortured Andrew’s physical body, and they are what go into the ground--not your son, not his spirit, not the essence of who he is. He is mine, and he is with me.

The day of the funeral became a day of victory for me, albeit a hard and costly one. I stood at my son’s grave and individually placed four roses into the grave. Disease, Pain, Sin and Death are what I buried that November day. I walked away from that grave with a subtle spring in my step, crying, but secure in the victory of Christ, anticipating the future day when I’d hold my son again.

Let us always remember and walk securely knowing that this life is not all there is. No matter what course our children’s lives take, God has the final say, offering us victory through his own precious son.


  1. As always, Juli, so well said. When I find myself getting upset, I calm myself by repeating, I will see her again, I will see her again...and I slow down and am able to breathe. I try to imagine how glorious that day will be, what Heaven is like, but I can't.

    Thank you again for another reminder that the end of this life is not the end at all, just the beginning.

    Also, you write beautifully, and I love reading about Andrew.


  2. I agree with Carol - this was the message I needed today. Thank you for sharing this site with me and sharing your insights with all of us....I love that image of burying the disease and the pain it caused...