I'm a big blog reader. I love blogs.  The truth is I read more blogs than I'd like to admit.  So many people I admire and relate to.  I love diving into the intimate thoughts of other human beings and feel privileged to take even a tiny peek into their lives.  So much of life is a mystery and   somehow reading others' words help me to put the pieces together of the ever-perplexing, ever-beautiful puzzle.    I read this entry from one of the blogs I regularly read who happens to be a pastor in England.  It stirs up so many emotions in me.  Not a day goes by I don't think of Andrew.  I hate the reality of having a son who died.  He's gone and he's never coming back.  And as long as I live on this Earth I can not hug him, smell him, kiss him, hold him...the list is endless.  I often think of where I would be without his presence, his spirit.  I would give anything to have him back.  The memories of the funeral director carrying his frail little dead body out of our house in a moses basket will forever haunt me.  I wanted to grab him.  To take that basket, which held my son and run with it until I could run no more.  I wanted to scream so loud the entire world would hear.  I think I did.  It's all kind of a blur but I've never experienced such pain.  There are really no words.  I have a 1,000 rainbows.  I feel more happiness than I ever thought possible.  I am a blessed woman.  Yet, there is always THE PAIN.  The darkness of the loss.  The cloud that never leaves.  Anyway, here is the blog entry.  I thought it to be eloquent:

Finding The Right Words of Comfort

Finding The Right Words of Comfort

What does one say to distraught and grieving parents who have just buried their young child?

Truthfully, there isn’t much we can say that will help. We can express our sorrow and sympathy. We can offer words of care and concern, and of course, love. We can tell the parents that we shall pray for them. But for most of us, the truth is that we don’t know what to say.

I stood a short distance from the family, as mourners came to offer their condolences after the burial. And I watched and listened as people so desperately tried to convey their compassion over the tragic loss this young couple have just experienced.

Some fumbled with words then simply broke into tears. Others offered sentiments that some might consider to be inane or even cruel. ‘You’re both young, you’ll have more children,’ one woman offered. The couple were too lost in their grief to even comprehend what the woman had said.

Perhaps it’s because we don’t know what to say that we sometimes say the wrong things. In our distress with another person’s suffering we often feel that we must offer words that will somehow help move the grieving individuals along.

Personally, I feel there is much more of a spiritual connection and sentiment in the power of a silent embrace. No words are necessary to convey sharing the human emotion of pain and sorrow and loss. Especially when we all accept that there are no answers. And so we weep at what has happened. And so too - God weeps with us.

One elderly gentleman suggested that the child’s death was God’s will. I disagree. The God we worship, our God who watches over us, doesn’t will the death of children, or the pain of their parents. Many, many things that happen in this world are not the will of God. That is part of the price of the freedom we have been given by God.

I watched the couple stand in numb silence as an aunt told them that God wanted their son in Heaven with Him. While I am confident God has welcomed him into His kingdom, I am certain God did not want this child to die right now so that He could have him there.

Others continued to offer the same thought; that they were young and they could have more children. This may be true, but other children will never replace this little life. He was his own person. The empty place his death has left in their hearts will never be filled simply because they have another child. Nor should it be. Every child is unique and precious. I realise that people say such things with a desire to comfort the bereaved. They desperately long to find some way to help. May God Bless them for it.

But know that we are faced with a mystery - the mystery of life - and of death - in which there are no easy answers.

And for the grieving parents who may feel that no one will ever understand their pain...

God understands. He had a son who died also.