It was two weeks before Christmas—only 2 ½ years since my oldest son, Clint, was tragically killed. I was scripting the annual Christmas letter and arranging photos of my kids piggyback riding on each other to include in it. Suddenly I was struck by the obvious omission of Clint in the pictures. My stomach knotted in its familiar ache of sorrow when the Holy Spirit countered my thoughts with, “Hey, who needs a piggyback ride when they’ve been raised on eagle’s wings?”
I relaxed and knew that it was true. I knew Jesus took him the night he died and I knew from the Holy Spirit where he went—mothers just know these things. Although I missed Clinton dreadfully, I was able to continue my Christmas letter and move through the Christmas season. That is, until Christmas Eve, 2012.
We went to my daughter’s church and as we were entering this beautiful church with all the glory of the night surrounding it, I was again, struck with grief that my son was not with us this Christmas. I went into the darkened sanctuary where the choir was singing and momentarily froze: the screen in the church was black with the exception of brilliant white wings outlining a simple black cross. I reveled in the stark beauty of the cross and knew it was for me. The Holy Spirit was again assuring me that my son had indeed been raised on eagle’s wings and I had no need to worry.
I enjoyed the evening and the next morning took a photograph of the cross. With the artist’s permission, I embarked on a mission to convert the winged cross photograph into a mother’s cross pendant. After researching several designers, I chose Joe. He was interested in pleasing me, attentive to detail, and extremely talented in turning a 2-D photo into a unique 3-D mother’s cross pendant.
Joe invested several months of sending photos and information back and forth. When he sent the cross to me. I cried. It was amazing. A few weeks later, I wore it to meet Ashley, the artist who drew the cross for the church, and I cried again.
However, I wear the cross to stop crying. Whenever I get panicky, I just rub my fingers on the wings, and once again, I am comforted knowing that Clint has truly been raised on eagle’s wings.
Call for expert help (888) 724-8222
