“I want to go and talk with her.”
“You want to do what?”
“I want to talk to her. She has lost a son, too. Maybe there’s something I can do or say to help her.”
Her words stunned. Stunned. How could she, who had just felt death’s sting so fiercely, who had just sent swaddled babe into the arms of Jesus, have the strength to speak words, period? Much less, to visit another mama, one she had never met, to offer words of comfort, words of hope.
They didn’t know each other, but they knew the same pain.
One son had fallen in Afghanistan, a hero giving life for country. The other, still too young to know war. But these mothers, they knew what it meant to birth a son — to hold him close one day, to feel him gone the next.
And they sat. And the Spirit interceded. And it was good.
This is the story of how Sonya chose to
pay play it forward over the weekend … by having the courage to face funeral and death again so soon — this time to speak words of comfort to another woman, relative of a friend, who was grieving the loss of her son, Daniel, who died in combat.
We find comfort in knowing that neither death was permanent, that both boys sing with angels today. And we’re thankful for a Spirit who charges us to do things that feel impossible, to face fear and fight back with kindness.
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