Zion's memorial service

The day our baby boy died, we pulled together a late afternoon funeral, of sorts, on our land. For those of you who don't know, we own a piece of property that is only a block from our apartment and have dreams to build a house there in the near future- dreams to fill it with children and we imagined our little Zion playing soccer there with the neighborhood kids. We loved the idea of burying him on our property, always close to us, and right where he might have been playing as he grew up. So, we invited our church, our friends, our neighbors to come and mourn with us. We returned to the clinic mid-afternoon to pick up our son. He was laying in the same warming tray with no tubes, no monitors, no beeping. There was only a nurse in the other portion of the nursery, tending to a baby. We unwrapped him from the hospital blanket and for the first time, saw a peaceful Zion. Although we knew there was no life in him and that what we were looking at was a shell, we were calmed by seeing him look like a normal newborn. We quietly dressed him in a pair of preemie jammies and wrapped him up in a soft blanket. We each had another moment to hold him, although it was different this time because we knew that his spirit was already in the presence of his Maker. There was room to spare in his fuzzy, white coffin and as we walked out of the hospital and placed his coffin in the car, I thought that I always imaged taking him out of the clinic in a car seat, not a coffin. Shortly later, we saw people starting to gather on our property. By the time I arrived, there must have been 50 people waiting for the service to begin. I started hugging those that I came to first and crying with each one, knowing that every body there had been long in prayer and supplication for us and with us. Our pastor began the service sharing about David pleading for the life of his son and how God chose to take him, too. David knew that his son would never return, but that one day he would go to him. We have this hope as well, that we will one day go to our savior and our little boy also. Pastor Edgar prayed for us and had us sprinkle dirt over the coffin, as they would at a typical burial. He picked out a beautiful hymn that the gathering sang as Scotty and I quietly listened and contemplated all that had happened that day. Our friends lined up to hug us, cry with us and offer words of love. Then it was over and everyone headed off to a reception that was held down the street at a friends house, while Scotty, Natty and I stayed behind to gaze at our son once more, pray and cry. It was our favorite time of day, just as the sun is starting to set and the world turns a nice, gold color. After a few minutes, we also moved on to the reception where we received more prayer and kind words. We were both struck with this incredible family that God has put around us. So many times were we assured from many, many people that they loved us, thought of us as family, would do anything for us. I knew God had all this in mind when he numbered Zion's days. We would not be alone. We are not alone and even now, we are being so well taken care of and being prayed for far and wide by those who know us and so many who don't. What a gift! What a loving Father we have to not only promise His presence, but give us the warm presence of so many others.