A SALUTE TO ANA RUSH CHAPEL

Monday will mark the second anniversary of our little granddaughter, Ana Rush Chapel, passing away. I never met Ana. She lived only a few days. I did see a picture of her all dressed up once she died. Ana Rush in her little white bonnet and gown.....identical in looks to her twin, Campbell. She looked like a baby doll one would find at Target...perfect features.

Those were tough moments. They had been tough days; waiting to see if the girls could pull through from their very premature entry into this world. Anxious for Chris and Wendy as they held on to hold up, friends and family prayed and pulled for all. Campbell was blessed. She lived. Ana was blessed. She died.

A few days later my friend, Don McLaughlin, and I stood beneath the massive tree in the babyland section of the cemetery. Ana's little white casket sat perched proudly upon a stone bench. Her coffin was about the size of a sewing machine case. Hearts broke at the sight. Sentiment crept through the crowd and quietly dismantled every heart. Don and I spoke of hope and compassion and faith and blessings. Singers directed our attention to the Living God. We each did what God could through us to give light in dark moments.

Many lingered to hug and to cry and to dab the tears from cheeks of those broken open. It was a sweet moment Ana provided for believers to rally her Mom and her Dad. Mary and I rode in the car with Chris and Wendy. We were the last to pull away...each straining to see anything through the tears of the lonely white box which would protect little Ana's frail body.

As we pulled away and were about to exit the grounds, Wendy asked Chris if we could circle by for one last look. I knew this would not be a good move, but I hadn't the heart to speak up. I was pretty certain I knew what would have happened. As we pulled within line of sight, the casket had already disappeared into the hole awaiting Ana's coffin. Now the bench sat as if abandoned of all meaning. I don't know when I've experienced such heartbreak as at that moment.

However.....there's always a God's "however".....the truth is God blessed all of us that day. We'd prefer life, but we accept hope. We'd have enjoyed fellowship, yet we accept a scheduled reunion. Our God is brilliant in every setting. He is to be praised when He chooses to do what's best through life and what's best via death; life and death are both life. He is the Grand Planner for our feeble walk. He possesses the Divine Strategy while we shore up one anothers broken hearts and dab away the tears.

Today Ana Rush Chapel lives. She is sharper and more focused than we. She reigns without distraction. We live in circular patterns hoping to one day be as blessed as our sweet little girl.

And, Dusty, I really believe she would have liked me best!