The Day is Quiet
The silence feels heavy, and the emptiness reaches places in my soul words can barely touch. What was once filled with laughter and warmth now carries tears and longing.
Seven years ago today, we said goodbye to our sixteen-year-old son, Leo. To love a child is to give your heart outside your body, and to lose a child is to feel that love stretch beyond this world and into eternity.
Leo’s life, though marked by immense physical pain, was radiant with joy. His perseverance and unwavering faith were a living testimony of God’s grace. He taught us that suffering does not get the final word.
Leo saw life through the lens of eternity. He understood that what he endured here on earth was temporary, and that the promises of God are everlasting. Instead of focusing on what pain took from him, he fixed his eyes on Jesus and what was possible through His strength. His life continues to speak ever so faithfully and powerfully.
If you are walking through grief, feeling inadequate or unable to see hope ahead, I encourage you to seek the truth of God’s Word. Even in the darkest valleys, God is near. He holds every tear, every unanswered question, and every broken heart.
“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.” (2 Corinthians 4:17–18)
Today, I remember my son. I grieve deeply and I trust fully that love never ends. One day, sorrow will be replaced with joy in the presence of our Savior.
