Since we moved back to Nebraska over a month ago, we've spent time with lots of family and friends, and it has been fabulous! But there is one person who we had not yet gone to see: my brother. My big brother.
Since I'm sure not everyone knows him, let me introduce my big brother: Chet Deichmann. He's 3 years ahead of me in my family, making his coming birthday his 30th. I haven't seen him for almost 12 years now, but there will come a day that I'll see him again. For now, when I want to visit a place that reminds me of him, I go here:
It may seem a little morbid, but it's part of my life, part of my history, part of what's made me who I am today. There are 4 siblings in my family, although only 3 of us are still alive. Chet, me, Tony, and Kim. Our family is at the point of growing again - Tony's wife Kayla joined the family this year, and by the time we take another family picture (presumably at Christmas) we'll also have a new baby to celebrate. But family pictures always seem... like there's just a little something missing. Namely Chet.
He died 11 years and about 11 months ago in an accident. He was almost 18, a senior in high school, and just coming into his own as an adult. That was hard. Really hard. But every now and then, he still seems to make a big impact in my life. And somehow I feel like he's watching his first niece carefully from an eternal vantage point.
You see, my due date is September 28. You may not have noticed, but check the dates on Chet's headstone again... His birthday is also September 28.
There are moments in my life when I've felt God look down from Heaven and wink. Some might find these "winking moments" mere coincidences, but I choose to credit the One who orchestrates them. Chase and I found out we were pregnant about 4 to 6 months before we really meant to be pregnant. And I was struggling - somewhat depressed, grieving the loss of things I still wanted to do but no longer could, and questioning if God really knew what He was doing. But then the doctor told us my due date: September 28.
Out of 365 days in a calendar year, what are the odds that my baby would be due on my deceased older brother's birthday? Add to that that my cycle had to be perfectly timed to achieve that due date. Add to that that we weren't trying to have a baby in September at all.
Hearing the due date come out of the doctor's mouth was a moment that settled my fears, quieted my trepidation, and calmed my doubts. God knew. He knew I'd need that assurance - that He planned this baby, even if we didn't, and He has a plan and a purpose for her life, long or short as it may be. She is on loan to us from Him for whatever number of days He chooses to let us have her, and for those days we will cherish her as our most valued treasure.
Our little girl is special, as are all children born into this sinful world. And every time I think about my due date, I'm reminded again just how special my little girl is, how she was planned before the foundation of the world by an omnipotent God, and how there will only - ever - be one her. It reminds me to cherish each day with her.
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