The evening we found out the news about Malia’s condition we went and got some falafel wraps from one of our favorite restaurants. Then we drove down to Beavertail to reflect together. Surrounded by dark storm clouds, we sat in silence on the cliffs, watching the waves crash on the rocks in the wind. In my mind, I begged God for the storm clouds to lift off the skyline so I could see the sunset. And within minutes, they did.
I was blown away that night by the bigger reality that came to me as I watched the sunlight peek underneath the storm clouds. Our grief would end. God’s hope would break through our despair.
This news would not end our joy. It would not even end our baby’s life. It would be a snippet of her story in the midst of eternity. And God would lift these clouds too.