Bittersweet

John came into our room at 5:23 this morning and said, "Mama! It's April 27th and so now I'm four and you're going to come to my school and we're going to have cupcakes." And then he left the room, and I heard lots of rustling from the general direction of the kitchen, and in a matter of minutes he was back carrying the bag from the cupcake bakery. I tried to convince him to go back to bed and get a little more sleep, but to no avail -- so we made breakfast blueberry muffins and got ready for his big day at school. He had a blast, and I'll have pictures up soon with a full recap of the weekend.

Through all of it, though, our hearts have been heavy, and I can't bring myself to write about our celebrations until I acknowledge the great loss we're mourning from far away.

We found out late last night that another John, the precious 7-month old son of our friends Kelly and Bill, passed away early Sunday morning in Austin after a valiant struggle with several challenges he'd faced since birth. This morning I helped my John blow out his birthday candles, while hurting to know that my sweet friend Kelly wouldn't have the same privilege. I thought of William, their older son, and how Bill and Kelly must balance their grief with comforting him today. My heart breaks at the thought.

We have been so incredibly blessed by Bill and Kelly's faith and their testimony through this trial. When I've let myself wail and wonder why such loving, faithful people would have to endure this -- why them? -- every time, it has been immediately clear that no one could have done a better job, and that they were absolutely chosen to be the parents of this special boy. As Bill has written, they had the privilege of being his stewards during his short time on earth, and even as they grieve now, they can rejoice that he is finally healthy and whole. So we will, too.