Sadness isn't the only thing we are all experiencing with the loss of Liam. It's very rare in life that you get to meet a truly heroic person. Liam was heroic.Thus, in the midst of sadness we also feel inspired to be better people. I have this feeling that, for the rest of my life, I'll be asking myself the question, "What would Liam do?"
You can read more about Liam and his project--Liam's Wells--here and here.
You can donate to Liam's Wells here.
My prayers are with you and Liam's family. He lived a beautiful story that will continue to be told in the hearts and lives of those he touched. I'm so sorry for your loss and heartache... Thank you for sharing your heart with this blog community; you have blessed me in many ways through your words and example. ~Peace~
ReplyDeleteThanks Susan. My heart goes out to Matt and Amy. My grief is sympathetic to their own. I grieve for them more than myself.
ReplyDeleteDr. Beck, me too. My first child died (many years -- two decades, actually -- ago) in a tragic daycare accident when he was not quite 2 years old. The death of a child is a hard hit to the "gut." I would never want to go through that again, no matter what the strength of my faith now. I wouldn't want to test it! I'm sure I would be crushed.
ReplyDeleteI now have a 15yo daughter and an 11yo son, who are the best part of my life. I have tried to live mindful of the fact that time is a gift, as they have grown up.
My heart just goes out to any parents experiencing the death of a child. I finished reading 'Unclean' this weekend. Your friends Matt and Amy are so fortunate to know such a wise man, with a heart bigger than Texas. May God heal and sustain you, and see you all through this hard time. Your friend, Susan
ReplyDeletePsalm 84:5-7
Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion. (NIV)
And how blessed all those in whom you live, whose lives become roads you travel; They wind through lonesome valleys, come upon brooks, discover cool springs and pools brimming with rain! God-traveled, these roads curve up the mountain, and at the last turn—Zion! God in full view! (MSG)
Words always fail me in losses like this. I'm just so sorry for the Lowe family, and their family and friends.What a sweet smile Liam had.
ReplyDelete"Words always fail me in losses like this." Me too. But I don't know if that's a bad thing. Most words of encouragement or condolence during times of grief just seem so damn trite. And as Richard so eloquently expressed in his poem, so too does theology.
ReplyDeleteRichard, thank you for sharing your pain so transparently in your poem and for giving us readers a glimpse in this post of how remarkable Liam was.
Your posts today have been especially poignant for me as I got news today that a colleague of mine lost his two-month-old son to complications following his second heart surgery.
Can't say anything meaningful right now, but something practical occurs to me.
ReplyDeleteA lot of blogs have a "donate" button to support their ministry. I know that's not your style or your need. I know there's also something problematic about calls for cash but for me there's also something spiritual in donating, something connecting, something eucharistic. Perhaps you could carry the Liam's Wells button for a season so that the community of friends who meet here can share in this...
Perhaps an idea for a more practical morning.
That's a great idea. I was trying to find a "button" but can only find a link, which may be the way to go.
ReplyDeleteI don't know you or the Lowes, but I've found a book that has helped me a lot on "God's Problem" (what Ehrman calls the dilemma of the suffering God seems to allow or even cause). It is "Without Buddha, I Could Not Be a Christian," by Paul F. Knitting. I have long looked for sources that will let some air and light into the tightly framed propositions I've been taught are the foundation of my faith; this book is in the top five of those I have found.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to one and all at this heartbreaking time.
Your posts on Liam have brought back many painful and poignant memories for me in the last few days.
ReplyDeleteMy prayers are with both yourself and the parents of Liam.
Like yourself, a very dear friend lost their son to cancer at just four years old after a terrible year of struggle and pain and distress. He was a minister of a local church at the time and the outcry of pain and anguish can still be felt many years later.
At his child’s funeral the atmosphere was leaden as people grasped for meaning and words – neither proved to be of much use.
As I approached my friend after the service we held each other for a long time and he said, “Martyn, you have three healthy sons and now I have none, can I please have one?”
Without hesitation I told him he could and you know, for that moment, I absolutely, categorically meant it... I would literally have given him one of my sons. We knew then and now just how much we love each other.
Their dead son Joshua lives on still in our memories and lives and continues to inspire us and remind us to be grateful for each moment.
My friend told me that at a conference with other parents of dead children they were told, “the pain is a big red ball of anguish in your ‘glass of life’ and it’ll never, ever go away. Instead, what will change is that over time the glass will get bigger so that the ‘red ball’, whilst never changing its shape, will nonetheless not encompass the whole glass like it did before...”
My friend said that all these years later – these words have proved to be wise.
I pray that they might be true to your friends as well...