The Saddest Day for Some–The Most Glorious for Others


One year ago, today, my cousin Beth received the most heartbreaking news a mother could receive. The child she was carrying–Tucker Jack Gilleland–who was due in just weeks, had died in her womb.

As I watched Beth and her husband mourn and grieve over the loss of their child, I was profoundly moved by Beth’s honesty. Honesty about her sadness. Honestly about her confusion. Even honesty about her anger.

It’s amazing how the most devastating day in the life of my cousin could also be the most glorious day in the life of her son. As she fought to understand how this tragedy could have occurred, Tucker was fighting to understand how any place could be so beautiful. As she held and clung to his precious little body, he held and clung to the hand of our precious Lord. As she cried endless tears and experienced seemingly unbearable pain, little Tucker walked in a place that never knew sadness. In fact, little Tucker never cried a single tear. Can you imagine? Not one tear. Not one ounce of sorrow.

On this anniversary of what we knew as an earthly tragedy, I celebrate the life of Tucker Jack Gilleland. He didn’t have to breathe one breath on this earth to teach us invaluable lessons about life, death, love, and family. He never once opened his eyes, but oh, how he opened ours.

Forget about resting in peace. PLAY IN PEACE, little Tucker! Your momma can’t wait to hold you again someday, and I’m looking forward to meeting you, too–my little brother in Christ.

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5 thoughts on “The Saddest Day for Some–The Most Glorious for Others

  1. Beth says:

    EXACTLY! What beautiful words, Susan. Thank you so much for caring for us and remembering with us. My only hope was knowing that Tucker never had to experience the pain and sadness of this world — the same pain and sadness that I will never be able to protect his big sister from. I will see him again someday, and I can’t wait to be reunited and hold him… or perhaps he’ll hold me. I know that the lullabyes in Heaven sound much better than anything I can sing. I am in pain, but I do rejoice for Tucker. I thank Jesus for eternity. I thank you for sharing these truths and for loving us!

  2. Emily says:

    My sister was 9 months pregnant, even waiting in the doctor’s office, when she felt her little Kyler kick extra hard. Just moments later in the exam room, the ultra sound revealed he had died. This was on February 17, 1998; she delivered him a few hours later.

    Fast-forward 13 years.

    My husband and I receive a phone call from our adoption agency. A baby girl was born in Dallas and she was all OURS! Wanna guess her birth date? Yep, February 17, 2011.

    While the gift of Anna doesn’t dull the pain of Kyler’s loss, it is a beautiful, spectacular reminder of the goodness of God. He is committed to redemption . . . yes, even while we walk this earth but oh-so-gloriously when we join Kyler and Tucker. Amen, right?

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