Death, you do not have the final word
I had the deep and painful honor of documenting the last moments of this sweet boy's life on earth. It was a sacred and heavy privilege to stand with his parents in their quiet grief while they held their son as he passed into the arms of Jesus, as they bathed and dressed their newborn, as they wept and prayed over his tiny frame. So much tenderness. Such raw grief.
And today we joined Mark and Ariel and celebrated and honored and grieved Ronan's life and death. This beautiful, precious, wonderfully made little boy, whose parents worked and fought for his very best all the days of his life. He was and is so deeply loved.
Ronan ran his race and finished the course. 11 days of life and breath. Now and forever steadfast and secure in the arms of Jesus.
Death, you do not have the final word. You do not have the loudest voice.
O Lord, God of might and mercy and mystery, you have driven the arrows of your quiver into the breast of your people, your beloved. You have filled our throat with bitterness and gall. You have made our teeth grind on gravel, and laid us down with wounds in the ashes of dreams...
O Lord, our eyes are on you. We do not look to another for hope. To you alone. To you we cry. Remember our affliction, remember the bitter wormwood and the gall! You have not made us drink this cup in vain.
This we call to mind, and therefore we have hope: Your steadfast love, O LORD, never ceases; your mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. You alone, O Lord, are our portion, therefore we will hope in you.
You are good to those who wait for you, to the soul who seeks you. You are good today. We are waiting, we are looking for the salvation of the Lord. We are not running from the yoke of this dark providence, or throwing off the burden of your good sovereignty. But we are waiting, and looking, for the yoke to be made easy and the burden light.
John Piper, Pastoral Prayer