GOD and THE FAVORITE PHOTO

-The Light of Navigation Series-

GOD, and THE FAVORITE PHOTO

The week was finally catching up with me emotionally and physically. The rush of arrangements that needed to be made was coming to a close. Last minute details were being straightened out. I was trying to get through just two more days. The state of shock during a traumatic event is a strange bedfellow. Shock is God's buffer for our emotional pain. The numbness is a norm for a time. Memory becomes intermittent, both short term and long term, or sometimes there is none at all. It returns slowly, but only after a season.

My son's close friends were putting together a photo and video presentation of my son's life that Friday night. It would be displayed during the funeral service scheduled for the following day. Family members speaking at the service, would chose a favorite photo to be displayed on the same screen as they shared loving words of remembrance. Here it was, the night before the funeral and I only had a small handful of photos that I had been able to bring. None of them stood out to me. I sat at the table that evening with my sister Mary, and a close friend, with the shock still impacting my memory.

Mary spoke to me and said, “What about your favorite photo? You know, the one of Randall standing in his crib?” I was stunned emotionally. I had forgotten completely about this cherished photograph. It was the “favorite” one. Every mother has this special picture that is held close to her heart above all others among a life time of photos taken. This picture of my son was taken in the early morning when he was a small child. I walked into his room to pick him up out of his crib as his little face was beaming with an angelic smile that greeted me, and his hair was standing on end! There he was looking out over his crib with his blue one piece pajama suit on. It was too late. It was the night before the funeral and I certainly could not fly home to retrieve it in time.

As Mary continued, she shared about God speaking directly to her the night before. He brought to her remembrance my “favorite photo”. The following day, unknown to me, she asked a friend to go to my home in Oklahoma to find the photo album that I had placed this picture in. It was then sent attached to a cell phone text. There it was, on time, my favorite photo to display when I spoke about my son that Saturday.

I was at a loss for words, impacted by what God had done ahead of time for me. I was at my most vulnerable point. In the midst of the grief I struggled to remember even the little things. What kind of God is this that knows what your favorite photo is? What God moves heaven and earth speaking directly to someone to make sure you have what is needed most? What kind of God-love is this that knows about and anticipates the choice of a heart's desire, ahead of time, when you yourself don't know about the future need? I will never forget this small, yet incredible move of God on my behalf. Indeed, I hope I never stop being awed about this facet of God's love. The following day, this photo silently spoke volumes up on that screen. It was about a mother's love for a child now gone, and God's loving fulfillment of an unknown, and unanticipated need. I could also see that God became my memory when mine had failed me.