+ Michael Alan Kornacki +

 “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; 
Blessed be the name of the Lord.” 

My son is dead.

I don’t know if I’ve ever had to produce a harder sentence in my life. One sentence, four words, and yet the ramifications of those words have irrevocably altered my life and that of my family. 

Michael was, in a very real sense, the center of our lives. We all understood that his needs would affect us all, and we all accepted that sacrifice with varied amounts of grace and patience—me least of all. He could be a handful, and sometimes more than one. And yet, nobody loved the way Buggy loved. His all-too-rare smile was beautiful, even more so for its rarity. His cuddles and hugs were a gift from God Himself. He had this deep little laugh that never failed to bring an echo from me. He never said much, his words swallowed by his autism, but he was always able to make us know what he felt and what he needed. He was a beautiful boy, and my life won’t shine as brightly without him. 

Michael is a baptized child of God. It was my privilege and everlasting joy to be the one who dunked the little sinner. There is very little that can give me real comfort right now, but what I do have is promise of Jesus through the Apostle Paul: “…According to His mercy He saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior, that having been justified by His grace we should become heirs according to the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:5-7). Furthermore, as Paul wrote to the Romans (6:3-5), “Or do you not know that as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. For if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, certainly we also shall be in the likeness of His resurrection…” Michael was marked with the name of the Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He was marked with the sign of the cross. I don’t have to worry that Michael has done enough to merit eternal life. Michael’s eternal life doesn’t depend on Michael; it depends on Jesus for Michael; my eternal life depends on Jesus for me; your eternal life depends on Jesus for you. “The promise is for you and your children,” St. Peter writes, and I am clinging to that baptismal promise right now with all the strength I possess…and when that strength inevitably and repeatedly fails, my Lord Jesus is clinging to me with strength that cannot fail.

My son—my sweetest boy, my beautiful Buggy—is dead. My heart is broken, and it won’t ever fully heal in this vale of tears. But I do not grieve as do those who have no hope. I know that Michael has received his holy rest from the Lord. I know that he will be raised on the Last Day, no longer in a body that betrays him, no longer with a voice stilled all too effectively by autism. I know that Michael’s Redeemer—my Redeemer—lives. I know that I am reunited with my son every time we receive the body and blood of Jesus “…with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven…” and I know that we will be eternally reunited when the Lord calls me to my own rest. For now, he rests with his PopPop, PawPaw, and all those we love who have gone before us in the one true Faith. He rests with his Jesus.

Michael was a wonderful gift from God for me, for Faith, for Alexis and Molly, his twin, and for all of us who were blessed to be part of his life and to have him as part of their lives. God is good, even now, and I wouldn’t trade the life we’ve had with Buggy for anything, even knowing what we know now, even grieving as we grieve now. There’s a beautiful hymn by possibly the preeminent hymn writer of all time, Paul Gerhardt, called “Why Should Cross and Trial Grieve Me.” The third stanza reads as follows:

God gives me my days of gladness,
And I will
Trust Him still
When He send me sadness.
God is good; His love attends me
Day by day,
Come what may,
Guides me and defends me.

I am trusting God right now in the midst of this agonizing anguish. Lord, I believe; help my unbelief! God is good, and in the days ahead, in the midst of my grief, He will sustain me. He will give me joy. He will renew my soul. He will remind me of the joy I had in Michael, a joy I can carry with me for as long as I live.

For now, like King David after the death of his son, I will get up, wash myself, and go into the house of God to worship the One through whom Michael received life and will receive life again. As David confessed, “Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me” (‭‭II Samuel‬ ‭12:23‬). ‬I shall go to Michael in the Lord’s time. Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

Rest in peace, Buggy. I will always love you, and I will see you again soon.