Last week, Jill told me she was headed to Nick’s grave to participate in the Wave of Light event, to sent love abd light and hope across the world in remembrance of babies who have died during birth or pregnancy. Danielle asked if Jill was wanting to participate alone, or if this was something she was ready to share with others. When Jill said she’d love company, it did not take ANY convincing at all for many many sister friends to surprise her by showing up to surround her and Nicholas in love and light as we mourned with her and remembered with her. The wave of light is intended to be symbolic, but a very tangible warmth was felt, truth was testified, and love was witnessed.



Jill had brought a light and a ribbon for each of the babies on Nick’s row in the cemetery to remember them, too. She mothers him well! As each friend arrived, we added lights for Nick, and as we huddled together on a freezing evening, sometimes visiting, sometimes crying, and mostly just hugging and remembering and loving, we all felt the heat coming up from these tiny flames. There was so much warmth between us and it was just a beautifully peaceful evening.

Look at all that love for Nicholas and the Smallwood family!


A few special things that happened were when the mother of the very first baby on the row, had been just driving by the cemetery on her way home and saw all the lights and women over on her son’s row and she got out of the car to come join us. Then she called her family and they came too. She told us her story, and we spent a time honoring him, as well.
Before they left, we spontaneously decided to sing “Be Still My Soul”. We surrounded Jill with her family song and her “carry forward anthem hymn” and surrounded baby John and his family, including his living twin brother with lights from each of us, too.
Watching this bereaved mother (who’s baby’s headstone spent years all alone over in this very special corner of the cemetery) embrace our Jill and give her empathy that can only come from one who has experienced and truly knows her agony was a sacred thing to behold. The Lord knows us each so well and so individually. The cemetery cannot provide contact information for the parents, so it is a tender mercy that He provided a way to connect these brave mothers, precious daughters to have a moment to mourn together and lift one another up. This mother spoke to many of us friends, too.


I don’t know why Nicholas did not get to live and why Jill has to spend an autumn evening in a cemetery’s to be with her son. I still feel very sad that this Jill’s story, instead of a story where we are passing around a cute little baby Smallwood when we gather as friends. I do not understand and do not really try to understand the why, because I DO know that God’s purposes are often far beyond my limited ability to see. I accept this and instead ask to see the Lord’s guiding hand in our lives.
Being together with Jill and so many loving women gave strength to my knowledge of the existence of eternity, forever families, and of the great power of pure love. I felt this love so strongly as I hugged these sister friends. Love between each other. The love we have for Jill and for the importance of Nick’s place in her family. The mother love Jill has for her son. The love of Jesus Christ, who brought all of us together, and the power that his Redeeming Love has to steady us, lift us, and close the gaps that separate us in life and death. His love and is perfect and it perfects us. I’m thankful to remember Nicholas and his gift to us that night, in letting us feel a massive wave of the Saviors love and light. Thank you to Jill for her brave vulnerability in sharing Nick and the evening’s powerful connecting peace with all of us.