Seven

I recently read this blog and aside from it making me cry, it really resonated with me and convicted me.

I've been thinking a lot lately about life, how precious it is, how fleeting, the way we look at it. I was saddened when I read this blog, because I have said in my heart the thing about a miscarried baby somehow being a defect. In an effort to guard my heart during a difficult pregnancy, I devalued my own child. As if saying that to myself would somehow make the death of my baby hurt less. It wouldn't. It was a lie anyway. This child is precious, a valued and irreplaceable person. My child, regardless of the outcome of this pregnancy.

Similarly, I was at an event last weekend when someone asked a family member and I how many grandchildren my parents have. The person quickly answered, three. I wanted to answer and give that same number, but the word got stuck in my throat & my eyes started to water. Three is the answer when you don't want to cry or explain things, or get 'that look'...or worse, be dismissed. Three is the answer to keep the light social banter just that.

Three is wrong.

There are seven grandchildren. Three are already with Jesus; three here on earth, huggable and close, one in the womb. Seven people, seven lives, seven "Browns". The absence of those three, recently and not so recently lost is felt by us all. It had come in waves before, but its quite acute lately.

Seven, that's the correct number.