Ruth Karis Collins

Two months. We knew you for fifty-six days. In those short moments, you brought delight and sweetness into our lives like we had never known. We loved you, we cherished you, our precious little one. And we always will.

Though you did not wake up in my arms, you will always be mine. Ruth Karis, our first child, your presence was an answered prayer that we never thought would come. You were a stubborn little thing, just like your mama. Doctors said it would be difficult for you to come to be, but you defied the odds. Your life was a miracle, no matter how brief it lasted.

There are no adequate words to describe a loss like this. Sin has damaged our world so much that even innocent infants never have the chance to take a breath. All creation groans, 

When is anything ever going to get better? 

When will we see God make everything right? 

My heart echoes those questions as I bleed in a hospital bed. I heard a heartbeat, but then like a snap of a finger it was gone. And now I lay connected to an IV with medicine pumping through my veins to push the death out of my womb. Repeated sympathies from doctors could never make up for this tragedy. This body has betrayed me and you. I couldn’t keep you safe. I cried to the Lord for help, knowing He is the One who can make even death work for the ultimate good. And He has done that for you, Ruth. 

We named you after a character in the Bible who had everything going against her in life. Death wreaked havoc on her life and left her helpless and vulnerable. She found herself without a husband, descendants, or a livelihood. But God saw Ruth in her distress, and He provided for her every need even when she didn’t realize it. He had a big plan, but Ruth could only see a small picture. In her story, God worked everything out in a way that only He can. He provided the right people at the right time to take care of Ruth and to ultimately bring King David and Jesus Himself into the world. Her story teaches us that when we see only one piece at a time, God is putting together the whole puzzle. 

Just like God was able to turn death and sorrow into blessing for Ruth in the Bible, so has he done for you. He breathed life into you, and He has now brought you to be home with Him. Your middle name means “grace” in Greek, your dad’s favorite language. God has graciously saved you and welcomed you into His loving arms, but He also graciously allowed us to be your parents. He blessed me beyond what I deserve by giving you to me, and I will always be thankful to be your mom. And one important part of motherhood is knowing when it is time to let you go.

Now, you rest in the arms of the One who created you. You are safe. I grieve your absence, but I rejoice knowing that you won’t have to see the world’s brokenness. All you will know is peace and light and joy. Perhaps you have met the Ruth you are named after, both of you rejoicing over the hope God brings to the darkest of circumstances. You will spend all of your days with our Father, and I look forward to the day that I will join you. 

One day, I will get to hold you in my arms, and we will enjoy the healing and loving presence of our God together. Though I knew you on this earth for a mere fifty-six days, we will have an eternity of days to know each other in the life to come.