William David


No one knows you, but we do.
One day you were growing;
Soon you were gone.
I would question the brevity.
But know God is sovereign.
Father knows best.
He spared the sorrow my fragile heart would feel.
Encased in a body with a stubborn exterior.
Had He given us more time together,
I would have struggled with the loss.
This sounds cold, as if the days I felt my womb
Preparing to hold you until birth
As if the miracle of those days held less value.

Many years later, I remember you again.
I have thought of you often.
Now more intense and real.
Your father knows you were a boy.
This he believes. I believe him too, for once.
Your sister knows of you too.
She will be so glad to see you. One day.
You would have been great for each other.
She needed a sib.
Someone to lead and teach. Not to tease.
To help her laugh when her perfection wore her out.
I imagine you would share the gift of creativity.
A heart for your Creator and all He created.
A fierce will for justice and compassion for the lost.
I hope she wouldn’t compete.
Cherish you instead.
Both of you precious.
I would discover my love has no conditions.
No limits. No favorites.

Perhaps our house of cards would have tumbled.
Precarious as it was; still is. Perhaps.
The chaos. The running. Trying to hug the wind.
I often felt incapable. I barely coped with one.
Surely two children would have broken me.
Broke my nerves.
Broke the bank.
Broke the me I thought I had to be.
Again, with a perhaps, I wonder.
His plan is perfect. Nothing is wasted.
There was a reason.
I must trust and let go. I do.
Still I wonder.

Would your father, your Pop, the one here on earth–
Would he have found time to lead?
Would he coach? To catch. To throw. To hit.
Oh, how he dreamed!
Whether he taught or you caught
Would you have manners?
Be a gentleman, as sweet as he.
Would you prefer William? So proper! Or
Liam because it is short and practical.
And a bit different. Like you.
Would you prefer Will to match your spirit? Or
Willie because you are silly?

Your Pop knows in his heart. Believes you exist.
He doesn’t say much but trusts we will be together someday.
He has love for both. You and the sweet girl
He has adored for many years but
Time slipped so quickly.

Would life have been different or divided all the more.
Boys going one direction
Girls in the other.
Would this house know peace?
Could you and your sister bring calm to our lives?
Released the tension and the battles of pride.
Would your strength hold us together?
Your humor break the ice?

You have come to my mind more than ever.
The house is quiet.
My bones are healing as well as my heart.
Your sister has run. She chases her dream.
Longing to hear from God. Clarity and direction.
Silence the voices of home.
To cross the border. Shake the dust off her sandals.
Leave dysfunction in the past.
Drop the weight. Run the race.

Loss. Rejection. My heart aches. My mind swirls.
Father knows best.
I trust Him with my life. With ours. All of ours.
She is not a prodigal.
This is not death. There is hope.
Hope for the future. No plan meant for hurt.
It may not be clear until we see you again.
When things are made perfect.
The fight for perfection
Was meant to be is His.

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