The Throne of Grace

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

I had no idea how I was going to make it out of that room for the last time. How was I going to be able to leave him. I remember holding his hand and laying my head on the side of his bed crying and praying, " How am I going to do this?" And saying things like, "I don't know how, but I know it's going to be okay," " I don't understand, but I trust you God" and "I will yet praise you!"
In that time of prayer God began to give me the vision of how I would leave that room. I was going to lay my head on Jacob's chest and listen for his last heartbeat then I would stand up, kiss him on the forehead and tell him, "I love you and I'll see you soon" and somehow I would make it out of that room whether on my own two feet or if someone had to carry me.

I had to practice leaving him late Wednesday night, when my friend Aaron insisted that I get some sleep. Walking over to the Ronald McDonald house was agony. Signing in that night and writing the date it struck me that I would never again write that date without pause. We so often know the date now of when our babies will be born, no one should ever have to endure knowing the date their baby will die.
I slept only 3 hours that night. When I returned to the room I began periodically listening to his heartbeat.
When the time finally came to remove all life support, I removed his NG tube and the nurse pulled the ET tube and I put my ear to his chest and listened. His diaphragm pulled a few times for air, but the effort was minimal. I listened as the minutes passed, his heart steady, but his time was near.  I was able to sing a little bit. The song on my heart at that moment would later help me walk out of that room.
"The joy of The Lord will be my strength. I will not falter walking by faith. He will be strong to deliver me safe . The joy of The Lord is my strength."
My sweet boy held on for a little more than 15 minutes. You can feel when the spirit separates from the body. The heart begins to flutter and it reverberates through the whole body. I could feel his hesitation and I told him it was okay.  "It's okay sweetheart. You can go. I'm going to be ok. Zach is going to be ok. Ben is going to be ok and Nate is going to be ok. It's okay to go sweet boy. I love you so much and I am so proud of you."
The fibrillation and separating of spirit and flesh took longer than I expected.  Aaron spoke over Jake, "Into your hands, oh Lord, we commend your servant Jake." A few moments later his spirit left him as he gave his last exhale. His heart beat slowed tremendously , hardly perceivable at all, and I asked everyone to be still. And then it stopped. I stood up from my chair and kissed him on the forehead, told him I loved him and that I would see him soon and then by the power of Christ I turned and walked out of that room, down the hall and out into the waiting room.

That time with Jake was the most beautiful thing that I have ever experienced in my life.  By far the most excruciating and beautiful at the same time. A few nights ago, God let me see that experience from His point of view. Another treasure for my treasure box. He allowed me to see, through the eyes of faith, as I approached The throne of Grace with Jacob in my arms gently placing him in the arms of Christ and then I turned and walk away...