I attended a funeral today for a 10 week old baby boy. I have never been to a funeral for a baby. I haven’t been able to get the imagine of the tiny baby in a small casket out of my mind. One of my former students (from last year… she is no longer a student at my school) was charged with murder and neglect of her son, who was 10 weeks ago. I currently have the aunt of the baby in my class. It’s unimaginable to me that someone could kill their own child. Hugging my student at the funeral today while she sobbed uncontrollably was one of the most heartbreaking moments in my short teaching career. I want so badly to be able to help her make sense of this all, but I am at a loss myself. Knowing there isn’t anything I can do to make things better for her is heartbreaking.
From Ecclesiastes 3. 1-8
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.