“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words
– And never stops – at all –
Earlier today, little Jonah passed away, ending his struggle over the last two years battling with tuberculosis. He is the sweet boy who captured hearts and touched the lives of so many with his story, with his suffering. Countless people prayed for his needs, for healing, for a miracle. It is hard to contemplate the loss of life so young, or the suffering that was endured. It is easy to perhaps feel defeated, but yet on this eve of Easter, I stand gazing upon the shadow of the cross knowing that there is no lack of miracle for Jonah in the light of the Resurrection. There is Hope, unchanged by circumstances, unaltered by resistant illness, by brain trauma and blindness. It is unchanged by his slight wasting frame or cries. It existed there, in the sorrow filled melody, in the tears of Monica his mother, the prayers of the elders, in the dressing and bandaging of his sores, in the anxious and sad glances of his siblings. Hope did not disappoint, shy away or not show up. Hope was there. freely offered, poured out, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die;” (john 11:25). Hope. Lest we forget the One who offers us a living hope is the One who also knows what it is to suffer. And yet we cannot end our thoughts mired in the agony of loss, Good Friday is followed by Easter Sunday. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” And so we mourn, in tandem with rejoicing in the mercy that is freely offered to all, that of the living Hope of Jesus.
Hope fills the afflicted soul with such inward joy and consolation, that it can laugh while tears are in the eye, sigh and sing all in a breath; it is called “the rejoicing of hope” (Hebrews 3:6). William Gurnall
please keep praying for Monica, Christie, Lindy and Nate as they mourn the loss of their son and little brother Jonah.