After seeing the movie
The Shack yesterday, we had a discussion among our family about if it is proper to be angry at God. (More on that later.) As a result of that conversation, I thought I would share again the story of my niece Maddison.
It was ironic because the very day I saw the film and Maddison was so much on my mind and heart, my daughter, Kristen, texted me a photo of a tile she had created for the children's hospital where she works. When she first started there, she and others on the staff painted ceramic tiles. Just yesterday she noticed that the tiles had been hung at the hospital. Hers said Maddi Sunshine with a heart above her name. How perfect is God's timing. I had recently just purchased a gift for my sister that I will give her soon. Again, God's timing is perfect.
This is my tribute to our Maddisonshine ...
My youngest sister, Jackie, had an extremely difficult time
getting pregnant. She and her husband
endured the full gamut of fertility treatments and lost one much-wanted baby to
a miscarriage. In January of 1999 their
precious daughter, Maddison, was born prematurely...weighing only twelve ounces
-- the same hefty weight as a can of soda.
Maddison valiantly wanted to live.
Her parents, doctors, nurses, entire family, and a host of friends did
everything they could possibly do for this adorable child. She was a miracle direct from God and we
worried and prayed and then gained hope with each minuscule increase in her
weight and every single day she thrived.
In June 1999, after just four months and 25 days, Maddison’s earthly life
ended. Although she was only with us for
a short time, this beautiful, precious child had an incredible impact on an
amazing number of lives. Each day she
was with us was a treasured gift.
This is how I shared the news with everyone who had hoped
and prayed alongside us:
To family &
friends close to my heart,
I simply cannot
thank you enough for all the love and support you have shown on behalf of my
sweet niece, Maddison Renee. To honor her
memory and your love for her from a distance, I wanted to share our final
good-bye with you.
When she was born
at 12 ounces on January 24, we all prayed diligently that she would survive. At only 342 grams, any other baby might not
have been considered “medically viable” but she has a will of her own and with
a “lusty cry” (as one of the doctors who spoke at her funeral said), she
announced that she wanted to live. The
staff at the hospital's Neonatal ICU took this precious angel under their wings
and loved and cared for her for most of the 4 months and 25 days of her too
short life.
She was able to
come home on May 19 (which I believe was her original due date or very close to
it). She was only home a few days, but I
know those days were precious to Jackie and Mark. She returned to the pediatric ICU (once she
was released from NICU, she wasn’t supposed to be able to go back, but they
bent the rules for this special child and she was back in familiar surroundings
with faces and hands she knew). When
Covenant’s staff had done all they could for our Maddison-shine, she was
transferred to the University
Medical Hospital
for an experimental treatment. We
thought it was working because all of her “numbers” and stats were
improving. That last Thursday, she
seemed much improved.
I had planned on
going to Lubbock to “hospital sit” so Jackie and Mark could take turns resting
and one or the other could always be there.
My other sister, Pam, had the weekend “shift.” Late Friday night or into Saturday morning,
Maddison took a turn for the worse.
As they had been
each and every day of her short life, Jackie and Mark were with Maddison. The hospital chaplain and several people from
the NICU staff spoke at the service and shared their firm belief that God could
not have given Maddison a better set of parents. I whole-heartedly believe that and witnessed
it first-hand. The grace that God has
given these two very special people is simply too profound for mere words.
At 5:30 Saturday morning, Pam called with
the sad news. I would not be going to Lubbock to hospital sit
with my sister and her husband and my precious niece, but to share a small
measure of their grief and sorrow.
The first viewing
room at the funeral home was simply too small to hold all of the love (in the
form of flowers) for this little angel.
Beautiful pink and white floral arrangements dominated even the larger
room and surrounded her tiny body.
I can’t adequately
describe how beautiful her physical form was.
It was as if God was showing us on the outside her beautiful
spirit. Wearing a white christening gown
and a tiny white bonnet with dainty ribbons and pearls (given to the family by
a Lubbock baby
store) she was perfect. She often slept
with her hands above her head and her tiny fingers were poised as if she were
ready to take flight to heaven (which her spirit had already done). Many remarked that she looked like a
beautiful porcelain doll. From her upturned
nose to her pudgy cheeks, she looked like a little cherub. But it was her tiny mouth and dainty lashes
resting on those pudgy cheeks that made her look peacefully asleep and
content. At any moment, you expected her
to sigh in contentment. I just wanted to
pick her up and hold her close.
The service itself
was filled with emotion, as you would expect.
Jackie and Mark had carefully picked out songs: “Angel,” “On Eagles’ Wings” and “The Rose”
which touched our hearts and somehow echoed the love we felt for this child of
theirs. The minister spoke about
Maddison’s “way” which defied any explanation in terms of her courageous spirit
of life. He did not try to give answers,
but acknowledged all of our questions of “why.”
Even in all this
sadness, there was a surrounding presence of love and the hopeful promise of
distant joy. Instead of somber black,
Jackie and Mark both wore white in tribute to Maddison’s purity and innocence.
From their own garden, they placed a rose
beside her and a vine of honeysuckle formed a halo above her head.
Still, there were
many tears. In fact, Lubbock had received so much rain that
parking lots and low-lying fields had become miniature lakes; I think those
were tears from heaven.
During the
procession to the gravesite, I listened to a favorite song, “It’s Never Easy to
Say Good-Bye”. In this case, it was even
harder. How can we say, “Good-bye” when
we’ve barely said, “Hello”? I don’t know
the answer, but I think of all the loved ones we’ve already lost and know they
have joyously welcomed Maddison with open arms.
“Good-bye” is said to have originated from the phrase, “God be with you”
and I know in my heart that Maddison is with Him and she loves us from
paradise.
Throughout the
days I was in Lubbock,
I was comforted by the number of people who were there to support Jackie and
Mark in loving sympathy. From the
neighbors who brought food and hugs and opened their homes and hearts, friends
and co-workers of both Jackie and Mark and families from both sides who came
together. Even virtual strangers – the
lady from the children’s clothing store who inadvertently asked how old the
baby was [for the christening gown] and gave from her heart when she heard the
sad news. The people at the framing
store who sent a card after making a beautiful shadow box with a picture of
Maddison and her tiny cap and shirt.
Even when I was at DFW airport trying to get to Lubbock, begging for a
seat on a non-existent plane, a woman who heard the reason I needed to go
sweetly told me with a pat on the back that I could fly with her to Amarillo
and she would drive me to Lubbock herself.
These small kindnesses and a multitude of others show that a reflection
of God’s love is present here on earth.
In our lifetimes,
we touch a limited number of people – soul to soul and heart to heart. During her short life, Maddison touched more
hearts than we can ever know, pointing us all to God. Perhaps in that small, yet enormous way, her
job here on earth was complete, despite our hopes and dreams otherwise.
Again, thank you
all for your loving sympathy. Please
keep Jackie and Mark in your prayers and hold all of your loved ones a little
bit closer because we can never know how much time we’ll have or when we’ll all
be together again.
In loving memory
of
Maddison
{\o/}
/ \
~~
The scriptural anthem for Maddison’s life was Psalm 139:13-16
For you created my
inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and
wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was
made in the secret place. When I was
woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in
your book before one of them came to be.
The biblical anthem for Maddison’s death is found in John
16:19-22
Jesus saw that
they wanted to ask him about this, so he said to them, “Are you asking one
another what I meant when I said, ‘In a little while you will see me no more,
and then after a little while you will see me’?
I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world
rejoices. You will grieve, but your
grief will turn to joy. A woman giving
birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born
she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the
world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you
again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.
