Torah Glory Joy


With great sadness and sorrow I share this

On Wednesday May 24th around 5:45pm we unexpectedly lost our baby girl, Torah.  I found her unresponsive after trying to wake her from a nap.  We immediately administered CPR, as did the medics when they arrived on scene, but we were not able to resuscitate her.

She was only two months and eight days old.  We are still in utter shock and disbelief.

Our hearts ache and hurt with the deepest of pain we have ever felt.  There have been moments, minutes, and hours of pure agony; tears that seemingly flood our eyes without ceasing.  Shaun and I hurt for each other and for each one of our children.

This is the hardest thing we’ve ever had to face as a family.  We’ve been clinging to God for strength and comfort; and, through it all we’re seeing His faithfulness.

His faithfulness has been made alive through His words:

“He is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Psalms 34:18

“A shelter from the storm, like streams of water in a dry place, like the shade of a great rock in a weary land.”

Isaiah 32:2

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

Matthew 5:4

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

II Corinthians 12:9

As much as we don’t understand many things about losing Torah, there are a few things we are being reassured of:

God is the author of our story.

Torah was and is His.

He allowed us to have her for 2 months and 8 days… which was a genuine gift to us.

If He so willed He could have kept her, saved her, or even resurrected her, but He didn’t.

And although He didn’t; He is still good; He is still sovereign; He is still all powerful; and He is still worthy of our praise.

Torah’s life was short, and yet, still so purposeful.  Every hair on her head, numbered. Every thought in her mind, known.  Not a day went by without the watchful eye of the Father.

She was, flawlessly loved by a sovereign God who sees it all.  Seventy days He sustained and orchestrated every second and minute of her life.  Not one day unaccounted for.  Her life and death, uniquely designed by the creator of the universe, solely for His glory.

And yet, although we know and believe this, if we could have written Torah’s life and death story differently we would have.

We would have made sure she had:

her first steps,

spoke her first words,

celebrated every birthday,

played with her brothers and sisters,

made great friends,

be walked down the aisle by her dad

…and one day even become a mother of her own.

As we looked at our daughter and dreamed of her life, this is what we imagined.

We never imagined her life wouldn’t fill the pages. While we knew it was a possibility, we never fully considered that the Father could be writing something so different, and nevertheless, He was.

We’ve come to understand that God’s stories are not only written for one family or one child, but instead written for the lives of all of His children.

Lives, that somehow, are divinely intertwined.  Lives that strangely intersect, and at each point of intersection, opportunity arises — for life to be found and given.

An opportunity for one of God’s hurting, broken, or lost children to return home.

At these intersections, at times, we must face the unfathomable — sometimes in the form of trials, pain, suffering and even death.

And, if we say as the Savior said, “If this cup can pass from me let it pass but if it cannot then nevertheless let your will be done.”

Then, He will be glorified.

As we now stand at this intersection broken as a family, we’ve come to agree with God’s story for Torah’s short life and tragic death.

Torah means arrow, and she was an arrow for God’s Glory.  Even through her death He will be glorified.  We long for the day to see her again, but until then we will continue to proclaim His story as our own.

For now, we will keep reminding each other everyday that, “Heaven is our true home and we’ll see her again there; where they’ll be no more death, no more pain, and no more sorrow nor tears.”