2 months have passed and this by far has been the hardest week I have endured here.
My heart has been filled with a raging sea of emotion.
Anger, hurt, betrayal, pain, sadness, helplessness, confusion.
Then Friday night we were told that one of our believers new born baby had only two hours left to live...
We all came together and prayed and prayed. I cried out more to Jesus that night than I think I have in my entire life. I just kept saying, "PLEASE FATHER! PLEASE!"
The whole church came together and prayed for this baby's life. Who knows how many tears were shed there in that room.
I felt so selfish. All week I had been feeling depressed for myself and then there was this baby who was fighting for her life. Oh Natalie, how selfish you are. You have no idea what pain is.
I could not stop thinking to myself.
I stayed up all night praying in the church. My knees hurt like crazy and I was beyond exhausted, but I knew that I just needed to keep praying, until my heart gave out.
In the morning while I was walking home I thought, "Tonight, I became a real prayer warrior."
Hours passed and we got news that she was doing better.
In the morning I just kept praising and worshiping Jesus for this miracle He had done.
We went to see her in the hospital and she was looking better.
I remembered seeing her the first day she was born.
I looked at her precious body and I remember crying.
Not exactly tears of joy, but tears of sorrow.
This new, blameless life had come into such a messed up world and my heart broke for her.
I prayed that she would do something great in her life, that God had a better plan for her.
I remember exactly in my heart saying this,
"Make her like Mother Teresa, make people remember her name, Father."
About two hours after we left the hospital I came home to a house full of anguish.
Everyone was crying.
I could not believe it. My heart could not bear to believe it.
"Jesus! Why?! How could you take this life?!"
Fast forward a few hours later:
Everyone packed in cars on the way to the grave site after praying.
Sobs of sorrow coming from a heartbroken mother in the back seat.
The lifeless baby in the arms of her father.
Aunt Becky and I squished in the front seat.
Softly the sound came from next to me.
A hymn I recognized from when I was a small girl growing louder.
"It is well, it is well, with my soul."
I couldn't tell you how I remembered the words after all of these years, but they came to me.
I joined my Aunt Becky in singing and we didn't stop until we got there.
Old hymns flooded our mouths.
Putting joy back into our hearts.
In that moment I saw baby Sarah, no longer in her father's arms in the back seat, but in Jesus' arms in Heaven. No more pain, no more suffering, she was there.
Please pray for Sarah's parents. This is what I beg of you.
I could never imagine the heartache of losing a child.
I pray that tonight, all over the world, whoever is reading this blog, remembers little Sarah's life.
What a precious beam of sunshine she was to us, only lent for a short while.
Always choose to love,
Natalie Grace Donald