working through the pain

i'm here in a dark, quiet hotel room with josh.  i'm not even sure exactly where we are -- somewhere near atlanta.  how did we get here?  not to atlanta, but to this day.  to this pain.

judah spent this last week in a losing battle to illness and to poverty.  he breathed his last shallow breath this morning and just hours later, he was placed into a small box and buried beneath the earth.  we weren't at our own son's funeral.  that thought has consumed me all day today along with a barrage of questions that i imagine will forever go unanswered.

who was at judah's funeral?  did they sing songs?  did they weep with the pain we've wept with today?  did a nurse or doctor hold him close as his life was slipping away?  when was the last time he cried?  or was he to weak to cry at all?  does he know how much he was loved and how much he is now missed by a mommy who never even held him?

i won't lie, there have been many times today that i've cried out in deep grief and unimaginable pain.  but our sweet baby's name keeps coming back to me.

judah.  "to praise."

the world seems to be crashing down around me and my heart aches at the deepest core, but all i know to do is to cling to the name we prayerfully chose for our son and to humbly act on its meaning.  i feel empty tonight, but my song of prayer and praise is this:

"the LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.  

blessed be the name of the LORD."  

job 1:21