Stronger than strong

Can you imagine burying your child the day before Mother's Day?

Today, just one day before Mother's Day, a family from my sister's church buried their six year old son who died last week after a battle with leg cancer.

Last Sunday, a few days after the boy's passing, their pastor preached on Heaven. I cried through the entire sermon. Today after the memorial service, my sister and I shared stories about the little boy. I cried through that too.

I didn't know the boy. I knew of him. I saw him at the church on my visits. But I didn't not have any type of relationship with him or his family. And yet, I cry.

I cry because it is sad. The situation is sad. The death is sad. These are the moments we question God's plans.

I cry, as do others. But his mom...I have not seen her cry. I know she must, but she is so strong in public. Instead of shedding her tears and asking to be comforted, she keeps a smile on her face and counts the blessings that have come out of the tragedy; the lives who were touched by his story. SHE is the one comforting others as they grieve their share of the loss. She is stronger than strong.

The lower part of the boys leg was removed in hopes of stopping the spread of cancer. And though he spent the remainder of his days in a wheelchair, I can't help but picture him in Heaven, laughing and running, made whole with both legs.