Richwoods

It has simultaneously been the fastest and slowest month of my life. It is the rich grace of God that continues to sustain us each day. We are so grateful for all who continue to pray for us and support us. The road ahead is still long. As I picture the terrain that we have yet to travel, my mind’s eye envisions the road to Richwoods Cemetery, where we buried our baby girl four weeks ago today.

The trees droop heavily over that one lane road that leads to Richwoods. I don’t even think you can find it on GPS. The spot seems to be frozen in time and space. The thick woods form a sort of barrier around the cemetery that blocks out all sound, except for the trains that pass through every 20 minutes or so.

That Friday morning, we sat under the green tent upon the earth where Zoe’s beautiful little casket would be buried. We were honored to be surrounded by family and friends who came to share in the joy and sorrow of Zoe’s brief life. It was a strange flashback of sorts. It took me back to the day seven years ago when Cody and I were married. Our dear friend who preached her funeral service, also preached at our wedding. We stood before him to promise “for better or for worse.” And we sat before him that hot July morning as we experienced the “for worse” in our own reality.

While it is much more fun to wear the white dress of celebration than the black one of mourning, the community that surrounded us that day was just as rich. Actually, I think it was richer. Anyone can show up to smile and eat cake. It is true fellowship to stand alongside someone in tears as well.

Zoe was buried there under a beautiful old oak tree, between my grandparents and the plot where my parents will one day be buried. She is the sixth generation to be buried at Richwoods. She is five yards away from her great-great-great grandparents. The very first funeral I can remember was that of my great-grandmother Tucker. I never imagined that two decades later, my daughter would rest ten feet away from her. In the Old Testament, when people died they were “gathered to their ancestors.” I think that gathering was two-fold: a physical proximity of bodies and a promise of community in eternal life. We are so grateful that her little body is gathered to her ancestors at Richwoods.

I spent a lot of time in the months before Zoe was born pondering what it would be like to bury the daughter who was still alive in my womb. It is painful to remember how that felt. In recent days, I have mourned deeply that she is no longer here with us. She is okay, it is we who are left behind who are not. I have cried out, “Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck!” (Psalm 69) I can imagine myself in the waters of the ocean—far too deep to touch, no shore in sight, no boat or life jacket. In that moment when the water is up to my neck, I have two options. I can look down at how much of my body is submerged, and in so doing put my face underwater and drown. Or, I can thank God that the waters have come only to my neck and turn my face upward for air. When my face is turned heavenward, God sustains me. He gives me new hope.

Yes, it is a grave. The sorrow of burying your child cannot and should not be minimized. But with my face lifted to him in the midst of the deep waters, I can see that it is not only a burial place, it is a resurrection destination. When Christ returns, the ground will burst forth with new life as Zoe Karis and all who are dead in Christ, rise with glorified bodies. This truth is like one of those orange life jackets that keeps you afloat and forces your face towards the sun. 

Paul wrote of the resurrection of the dead in I Corinthians 15. Verses 42-44 read, “What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.” Jesus is only one who has a glorified body now. But one blessed day, Zoe Karis’ broken little body will be raised as a new glorified one.

The grave couldn’t hold Jesus and that tiny casket won’t be able to hold Zoe when Christ returns. Her body was sown perishable on July 1, and one day it will be raised imperishable for eternity. 

The ground of Richwoods will spring forth with life, by the grace of God. The graveyard will become the terrain of resurrection, just as the garden tomb in Jerusalem became the womb of life imperishable. It is that ZOE by the KARIS of God for which we hope and wait.

Zoe's Birthday

My dining room table is covered with papers, cards and books. As I look across the table at the stack of extra programs from last week’s memorial service, I can hardly believe that it is Zoe’s name on the front.

Exactly three months after her fatal diagnosis, our sweet Zoe Karis was born and died. It was an unbelievably difficult three months, knowing that any day could be “the day.” 

Zoe was full of surprises her whole life…and her birth was no exception. My water broke on a walk around the neighborhood just before Cody and I were scheduled for dinner with friends. I couldn’t believe that it was really happening. I stood in the road and cried. My sweet husband coached me home and had us ready to leave for the hospital in less than five minutes. He stays so calm under pressure (unlike his wife). 

I don’t think any parent could ever be completely ready for what we knew was ahead of us. I kept saying, “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet!” Such sorrow and joy…knowing we were on our way to the hospital to hold our sweet Zoe for the first time…and last time.

We treasured the time we had with her in the hospital that night. As we have been doing since March, Cody read to her from the Jesus Storybook Bible. Our story for that night was Jesus’ resurrection. Our hearts were filled with such hope for Zoe as we remembered once again the truth of the resurrection. Furthermore, we were so comforted that God is not unfamiliar with our pain. He willingly gave over his son to death for us. Praise him.

At midnight, we told Zoe “Happy Birthday!” knowing she would be born to earth and to heaven on June 24. 

Zoe’s strong and beautiful heartbeat resonated in our room all night. I couldn’t sleep for listening to that sweet sound. I talked and sang to her all night long. I treasured every single minute with her safely inside me, knowing that each passing moment was one second closer to the time she would go to be with the Lord. It was surreal to feel her move and hear her heartbeat, knowing she was also going to die that day. 

After a few of my contractions caused Zoe some distress, our wise and wonderful medical team determined it was time for an emergency c-section. We had been memorizing Isaiah 43 for delivery day. “Fear not” kept resounding in my mind as everyone worked quickly around me. 

Zoe Karis was born at 5:12am. She was perfect. That time with Cody and Zoe are the most tender and cherished moments of my life. Though the medical team was working all around us, we were all alone. It was our little cocoon of tear-filled joy. In our eyes, her life was far too brief, but God knew her days before there were any. 

On June 22, the night before I went into labor, I read Cody a journal entry from December 22, 2015. I wrote, “Lord, you have ordained this baby’s every day, whether it be mere days in the womb or days piled into decades on earth. Help me to trust you, Lord Christ.” 

He has helped me. I know he will continue to help me, and all who mourn the brokenness of this world and long for the hope of heaven.

Cody and I have recited Philippians 4:4-7 to each other multiple times a day since March 24. On June 24, we truly rejoiced and experienced the peace of Christ in a whole new way. It was so very real, I think everyone who came into our room that day must have felt the Holy Spirit’s presence. I had waited and wondered what I would feel like on Zoe’s birthday. I am so grateful to say it was honestly the most joyful and peaceful day of my whole life. I knew that Zoe was present with the Lord, in no more pain, and that we would see her again. 

Our family came from Arkansas and our friends came from all over the country to be with us and meet Zoe Karis. She looked like a perfect little baby doll, with Cody’s cheeks, our blue eyes and my nose. Her skin was so soft. She had a such a sweet smell. She wore four pretty dresses made by women who minister through their gifts of sewing. We studied her and tried to memorize everything about her. She was beautiful. And so very loved. 

All too soon, goodbye came. Thanks be to God, because of Jesus, that goodbye was not final. It feels permanent right now, but it is not forever. When forever begins at Christ’s return, Zoe will be resurrected to eternal life in a glorified body and we will be with her in new creation with no more tears. We anchor our hope in this promise.

Tears are the reality for now. Our last 16 weeks have been filled with overwhelming sorrow. But, praise God, the joy that he gave us as a gift in Zoe Karis has outweighed the pain. She was a gift. I wouldn’t trade away the joy to skip the sorrow.