Our family is shaken by the events of our day. What seemed like a normal morning at church has turned into tragedy and heartbreak.
After church was over, I went to pick up my little Squirt in the nursery and there was an unusual crowd milling around the door of the nursery.
Our church is fairly large, so I didn't immediately think much of it until I looked through the nursery window to see a baby flat on the floor with no shirt on and tan pants on - Squirt wore tan pants today.
CPR was being performed on this baby.
I screamed and lunged toward the window. Before I saw much more, two women who knew me tearfully informed me that it was not Squirt that was being worked on, it was my friend's little boy.
My friend Darcy and her husband Dave have four beautiful children, and their youngest son was born at 33 weeks gestation and was a fighter from the start.
They named him Major.
Major is 15 months old and choked on something that he put in his mouth this morning in the nursery. Luckily, his dad Dave is a doctor and was serving in the nursery when it happened.
When I walked up, they had been working on Major for seven minutes and the ambulance was arriving.
They continued CPR for another 20 minutes or so and finally got the object dislodged from his throat in the ambulance. They also finally regained his pulse.
We were hopeful today that Major would prove to be a major miracle. We had some seemingly good news that his organs were functioning and he was breathing on his own, but tonight I received the phone call I didn't want.
The neurological tests did not look good.
Our church held a special prayer meeting just for Major tonight. I was on my knees for an hour, pleading for a miracle for such a seemingly random tragedy.
We were told there that Major has been diagnosed as brain dead and Dave and Darcy were holding him while they waited for the organ donor team to arrive.
I am without words. It is a time when I am coming before God with painful groans and no words.
I come before my God who gives hope through tragedy.
He gives the promise of eternity with Him. And as my four year old son says over and over these days, "God keeps His promises."
This was their Christmas card picture last year when Major was just a couple of months old. He grew into being even cuter, sweeter and yummier than he is in this picture (if you can even imagine).
And squeeze your loved ones close tonight.