Lessons From the Incubator

Lessons From the Incubator 


I sat in the bereavement room on the third floor of the hospital where I worked as a neonatal nurse. It's a small room,  about 10 x 12 feet, where people go to deal with the impossible, the  inexplicable, the death of their baby, the death of a dream. Bereavement. Such  a sophisticated sounding word, like a baby's death can somehow be legitimized  if we speak of it in hushed tones, or cloak it in grand sounding soliloquies.

The muted decorations of lavender and  green mock the deafening silence that enfolds parents who sit on the  floral covered couches holding cold, silent infants in their arms, one  last time. As I sit there, I notice a box of tissues on an end table that  screams to me of the agony of loss that no one should ever have to  face. Then I read that the tears we cry are precious to our Creator, that  He sees each of them and they touch His heart.

And in the silence of that quiet,  private room, where my own heart cried its own well of tears, I heard God  gently speak – "Don't waste pain". Don't waste pain? It seems somewhat akin to  saying "Don't waste garbage". How can you waste something that is worthless  anyway? Then I think of the mother who, upon losing her baby, declined an  autopsy, a test that might have shed light on why her baby died, and provided  insight that could have helped other babies with similar conditions. Who could  fault such a mother for not wanting to prolong the agony of her loss, but  rather simply bury her dead and go on with life as best she could? Oh, but  then I remember the mother who, through her tears upon hearing of her tiny son's fatal heart defect, requested that when the time came, his other organs be used if possible to save the lives of other babies! Don't waste  pain!

Life comes to us replete with pain and  heartache. It is one of the inevitable truths of life. We have the choice to either wallow in our pain, holding it close and shielding ourselves with it from the  rest of the world, or welcoming the healing water of Christ's love to pour over the wounded and torn places of our hearts, washing us with His love. But  as wonderful as the second choice is, there is one other choice we have before us: that is to embrace the hurt, welcoming the opportunities that the  pain brings us to create a place of refuge for others who are hurting.   How like Christ to not simply take our pain away, but to help us do something so extraordinary with it that the positive results from the painful experience in our lives outweigh the negative consequences of the experience to begin with!

What a journey of discovery, to realize that the God of the Universe, who loves with an everlasting love, sees our pain and holds it close to His heart. Our pain is not worthless, but a honing tool in the hands of a Loving God, to bring definition to our characters, light into our darkest places, and His overwhelming love into hearts broken by pain and sorrow. And ultimately, to make us into His image, the Image of His dear son, Jesus Christ.