Not Forever

Not Forever.

That is what I whispered as I dressed Shiloh for the last time, as I gave him just one more kiss, as we closed the lid on the only home his body will know, as we laid him to rest, and as I got in the car and drove away. . .

I've thought a lot about this, and I've decided to share the remarks I gave at Shiloh's burial with you. You are probably thinking, 'She spoke? Crazy woman!' True. True. But I had to--I know him better than anyone and there were some things that had to be shared. So I'm sending this out into the universe. I pray it helps someone reading this.

I was on bed rest with Shiloh from late April to early June. While I was in the hospital, I was almost too weak to make it to the bathroom five steps from my bed let alone shower by myself for five minutes so I would wait until the weekend when Blaine could come and help. One time, I returned from the shower and noticed that a floral arrangement my dear friend had brought me now had large white flowers blooming that I hadn't noticed there previous to my shower. I asked Blaine if they had been there before.

'Yeah, they were there' he said.

'No', I told him, 'I don't think so'.

Again he reaffirmed to me that they were there and I realized that I must be losing my mind so I didn't say anything further until one of my favorite nurses Chris asked if I was upset that she had added some of her homegrown peonies to my floral arrangement. She explained that peonies bloom for a short while and she thought I would enjoy them. I of course thanked her and we all had a good laugh, but it sparked my curiosity about this plant. I found it ironic when I learned that under ideal conditions, peonies bloom from late April through early June.

In seven weeks of existence my precious Shiloh influenced more people and did more good than many do in a lifetime because he changed one heart--mine. I thought that I was working with God to save my son, but I realize now that really my son was working with God to save me. I gave him the body he wanted, and he gave me the new heart I desperately needed. If that were all that came out of this experience it would have been worthwhile--but it isn't. Our family has been changed for the better. Many other families have been changed as well.

The day I delivered Shiloh, one of the three high risk physicians that handled my case spoke with me and he expressed how important he felt naming a child was and that he was fascinated with the name we had given our baby and its meaning. His father and grandfather had both been Seventh Day Adventist ministers so he of course recognized the biblical origin of the name Shiloh. I told him that Blaine and I felt strongly that our son exemplified the meaning of his name which in Hebrew is, "His Gift."

"While that fits" my doctor said, "That is not the meaning to which I was referring." See, in his bible the meaning of the word Shiloh is peace or tranquility and it derives its meaning from what in our scriptures would be referenced as Isaiah 52:7 which says,
"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!"

As Aunt Gaylene so eloquently said, 'Shiloh didn't have to utter a word to bear his testimony.'

I want to join with my son and testify to you that God reigns.

When I first realized that Shiloh was gone, my doctor was beside herself-she couldn't accept it, and my nurse was literally wringing her hands exclaiming, "There can't be a God--what kind of a God would allow something like this to happen to someone like you."

And I remember that I wasn't crying. I just held my nurse in my arms as she sobbed and told her, 'It is okay. God didn't take Shiloh. It will be all right."

How is it that I could say that at that moment?

Because it is true. I know that it is true. God is so good. He is so kind.

In Isaiah 55:8 the Lord says," For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways..."

C.S. Lewis once gave the following analogy:

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first , perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently, He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is he up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of- throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace."

I would borrow from Truman G. Madsen and add that he is making us living temples--and it is in the temple that we come to truly understand where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going.

Elder Russell M. Nelson once said, "We were born to die and we die to live. As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven."

Shiloh has fulfilled his mission on this earth, and he has gone on to greater things as has the man in whose arms he will figuratively rest until he is again in mine.

Last Friday, I was reading from the Book of Mormon, First Nephi where Lehi is recounting to his two oldest sons his vision of the tree of life. In verses 10-15 of Chapter 8 it reads:

"And it came to pass that I beheld a tree, whose fruit was desirable to make one happy. And it came to pass that I did go forth and partake of the fruit thereof; and I beheld that it was most sweet, above all that I ever before tasted. Yea, and I beheld that the fruit thereof was white, to exceed all the whiteness that I had ever seen. And as I partook of the fruit thereof it filled my soul with exceedingly great joy; wherefore, I began to be desirous that my family should partake of it also; for I knew that it was desirable above all other fruit. And as I cast my eyes round about, that perhaps I might discover my family also, I beheld a river of water; and it ran along, and it was near the tree of which I was partaking the fruit. And I looked to behold from whence it came; and I saw the head thereof a little way off; and at the head thereof I beheld your mother Sariah, and Sam, and Nephi; and they stood as if they knew not wither they should go. And it came to pass that I beckoned unto them; and I also did say unto them with a loud voice that they should come unto me, and partake of the fruit, which was desirable above all other fruit."

In chapter 15, verse 27 Nephi addresses his older brothers when they question him concerning their father's vision. "And I said unto them that the water which my father saw was filthiness; and so much was his mind swallowed up in other things that he beheld not the filthiness of the water."

I wondered, 'what other things were consuming Lehi's attention?' If you trace the footnotes back you learn that this filthy water is from the river that Lehi's wife and children are standing by in his vision. The patriarch of this family, who has gone on to taste of the sweet, redeeming love of the Lord is beckoning to his wife and sons with a loud voice to join him and experience for themselves true joy. Lehi's attention is so riveted on his family members, to the point that he doesn't notice the filthiness of this river that stands betwixt them--yet, in the end, that filthiness will bar his posterity from enjoying the fruit he longs to see them partake of. Is it so different for us? The patriarch of our family isn't focused on the filthiness that surrounds us--his attention is riveted on his wife and his sons, and he is beckoning to us with a loud voice to join him.

Will we?

My favorite scripture comes from the Joseph Smith Translation of John 13:8-10. The setting is at the last supper when the Savior is washing the feet of his disciples.

"Peter saith unto him, Thou needest not to wash my feet. Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me. Simon Peter saith unto him, Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head."

May we allow ourselves to be washed clean by He alone whose right and joy it is. Might we never allow those who have gone ahead to truly be dead to us--may we recognize and accept their invitation and cheerfully do all things that lie within our power, that we may find no empty chairs at our family's table is my prayer and I say this in the name of our beloved Savior, even Jesus Christ. Amen.