On the death of little Molly

Dear flock,

 

The picture above is of little Molly, a precious little one year old, the day before she drowned in a pool. Her mother Charissa was part of the youth group at Grace Bible Church years ago when my own kids were teens. They all hung out together, went to student conferences together, and had youth parties at our home. At the time, none of them ever dreamed that such unspeakable tragedy could ever enter their lives. Charissa and her husband Jordan are solid Christ-followers, as well as their families. Grandma Cathy wrote the piece below. Read it and weep with those who weep, and pray.

--Pastor Doug

 

The Crucible of Pain and Suffering

Before the loss of Molly, I had been undergoing a mini trial (because everything seems mini after this), and a couple times I'd prayed, "Lord, change me!" I was almost afraid to pray that way because of what it might yield.

And then Molly happened. And the grief and anguish of soul served to undo us. But God has been here. Jesus has cried with us. And we are all changing. In small ways He has opened our eyes to problem areas in our lives. My precious Gene, who prefers to live a quiet and private existence, wrote a letter to all the staff where he teaches. He talked about Molly, but he shared our hope in Jesus. He would have preferred to remain under the radar, but he felt compelled to be public with his heartbreak, and invite the staff to the service. One teacher wrote that they would be there. Others, who don't know Jesus, wrote that Gene's faith would help him. A door of witness has opened because Molly's death has allowed opportunities to share Jesus. Her little life is a beacon of hope and light. How we miss her! But we are praying many will be brought to Jesus because of what has happened.

Our church has been changed. Trials have that effect. Our local church body is growing stronger in prayer and encouragement.

We have heard of some who've not yet been drawn to Jesus make reference to the faith we have in God. Our faith is a gift from our glorious God, outside of ourselves. We can't muster it up on our own.

We've been privileged to share Jesus with those who were by our side on the day of Molly's home going. Several in our family (and close friends) baked lots of sweet treats, and, yesterday, took them to the staff at the hospital where Molly was treated, and to the police dept who responded. The treats were accompanied by thank you notes with the message of the Gospel, and an invite to the service.

We keep going back to the well where unlimited grace and mercy can be had. And we are finding help--so much more than we knew possible--is there. And we are forever changed. It's not the script I would have written, but I'm not in charge. A life of mediocrity will not do. Part of me is afraid of what might happen next, but I continue to be bolstered by Jordan and Charissa. And I think of verses that pop in my head about what Jesus did for us, and how our suffering is but a microcosm of what He endured.

Lastly, we have the hope that He'll lead us safely home. And that makes this present life more doable.

What follows is an excerpt from my darling husband's letter to the staff. I hope you find encouragement from what he's written.

 

"Our family has been devastated by this loss, and yet without despair. We’ve been comforted by the overwhelming love of extended family, church community, and others, many in far-flung places, who have surrounded us with their presence, tangible kindnesses, and prayers. We rest on the promises of God, and the words that will be etched on Molly’s grave marker, 'I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die (John 11:25-26).' We long to see her again."