I’ve also seen the faithfulness of God well after the storm when the clouds are well and truly parted and the seas have grown still. I know the sun will rise in the east again tomorrow and the buds will eventually push their way through the barren winters. I know that love always finds its destination. I also know that new life comes after death — it’s the order of the world (made in light of heaven) and we can always hope for it, look for it, and call it into being.
I understand how little I understand and I see Jesus anyway, through it all. He is the source of life as I know it and my hope rests securely in knowing he never stops creating, never stops reproducing life, never stops loving us into becoming more of ourselves.
Maybe I’m too little of a poet and too much of a literalist but the term “rainbow baby” is a broken metaphor to me so I’ll probably never use rainbow baby as a descriptor myself. But to be clear, it’s not offensive to me when people refer to our son as our rainbow baby. I understand the sentiment and I receive it gratefully, joyfully, and with my whole heart. He is a gift and he will be birthed out of the aftermath of our storm. There’s enough beauty in that to call forth the splendor of a rainbow, indeed.
And that, my friends, is one more reason to rejoice in his coming.
There’s so much to celebrate with the impending birth of our son. I cannot wait to share the beauty and our joy with you soon.
This article originally appeared at AdrielBooker.com, published with permission.
