Busy Lizzie’s Little Adventure
We want to tell you a story.
A story we call Busy Lizzie’s Little Adventure
Lizzie came to us as a gift from God on the 11th November 2011.
She’d been in my tummy for 9 months and I loved every second of it.
She was born as an answer to many years of prayers. She was the one we got to take home. She was born perfect in every way, beautiful lips, big brown eyes, the super important double eyelids for Asians and little chubby fingers that she unfortunately got from me.
The first few weeks were whoozy. But we got the hang of it.
It was hard but we cherished every moment of it.
Day by day she grew bigger and smarter
She learned to smile and giggle, she learned to roll over and crawl. she learned to clap her hands, and before we knew it she was running around the house, always busy doing things. There was no corner of the house that she didn’t touch.
She was the only baby we knew who threw her own dirty nappy in the bin.
Everyday before she had her bath, she’d always put her dirty clothes in the laundry basket.
She even loved helping me hang up the laundry, handing me pegs (pulling them apart as well!) and shaking out the clothes before they were hung.
She loved painting, she loved riding on her little Winnie the Pooh car.
She loved sitting in the bath even when all the water was gone,
she loved hand sanitiser,
she loved answering the phone and saying hello,
she loved the playground, especially the slide.
But most importantly she loved food. She loved grapes, mandarins, chinese veggies, everything that mummy, Oma and Ama cooked for her. She loved Noggi, Moochi frozen yoghurt. She loved gelato. She loved pasta, noodles, rice ,biscuits, tiny teddies, pokki, brownies, pudding, babycinos, vegimite, nutella, prawn crackers, chips. She loved custard, it was the only thing she would eat when she’s sick. And she loved her Maccas.
We went to Maccas a couple of weeks ago, and we bought her a nugget happy meal. We hid the chips from her and made her eat the nuggets but she knew something was up, and kept pointing to the bag the chips were in. When she finally had enough of the nuggets we put the fries in front of her, and you should have seen her face light up . She looked down at the chips, and looked up at us with such a look of wonder and happiness.
She hated the beach. Whether it was in Port Stephens, or Hawaii, there was not a beach she didn’t like. She was so grumpy every time we were on sand. She was definitely her parents’ daughter.
She started talking. Her first word was “mama”. Then “dada”. Then “Lizzie”. Then “Jizzy” (That’s Jesus). She could say, “ta” ,”God”, “Please”, “more”, “no more”, “iyah, iyah”, “ama”, “oma”, “nara”, “book”, “duck”. She loved say “bye bye”. She could even “kiss bye” on command.
She knew that sheep go “baa baa:, cows go “moo”, pigs go “kruek kruek” (that’s from you Audrey), ducks go “quack quack”.
She loved the wiggles, and we got to take her to see her first movie a couple of weeks ago. She loved popcorn.
But most importantly she loved mummy and daddy. And we loved her very much too.
In the evening of the 3rd of July, we did what we usually do. I said to her that it was time for her bath. She grabbed her favorite dora the explorer pajamas and made her way upstairs with Daddy. She went through her ABC bath book and played with her rubber ducky. She enjoyed it so much she didn’t want to get out of the bathtub. After her bath she came downstairs with a nappy bag in hand. She ran towards mummy with the biggest smile and giggled. She gave mummy a cuddle and threw out her dirty nappy in the bin. She played on her winne the pooh car for a while. And when it came time for bed, mummy prepared her milk. Lizzie rode her car into her room to get her sleeping bag and she brought it out to the sofa where she would usually lie down to have her milk.
After her milk we brushed her teeth … and we both took her into her room.
I read her a story from the Big Picture Bible and we prayed together as a family.
She would put her hands together when we pray and finish with a big Amen.
We laid her down and we said good night … we love you very much lizzie, see you in the morning.
At 10 to 8 in the morning the next day, Deb went into her room to wake her up. But she was already gone. In the middle of the night, God had called for her and taken her home. Her little adventure with us … on this earth … was over. 9 months in utero + 19 months and 21 days in our arms. She was gone. We don’t know how or why she died. All we know is that it was her time to go.
Her little adventure with us was full of joy. The last 2 years were the happiest time in our lives. We would sit in bed at night talking about her and looking at pictures and videos we’d taken of her that day. She gave us the best time of our lives. But it was way too short.
I had walked with her, holding her hand, up and down this aisle so many times. But I’ll never be able to do that on her wedding day. I’ll never get to teach her to drive or change the tires. I’ll never get to comfort her when she’s heartbroken and tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl in the world and no boy is ever worthy of her. I’ll never be able to force guys to do a 1-to-1 discipleship course with me before they can date her. I never even had the chance to teach her that Pandas go ni hau.
Deb will never get to teach her to bake or how to cook crispy pork belly for her dad. She’ll never get to teach her debits and credits or how to do a reconciliation. She’ll never have mother and daughter fight and make up right after because at the end of the day they both love each other very much.
We mourn for the future we would’ve had with her. We mourn for the fact that now our arms are empty, we don’t get to hold her and kiss her and bathe her. We miss her giggles, we miss her cuddles, her tantrums, her smile, her cheekiness.
Once we left her in the car because she didn’t want to come out. So I locked her in the car, turn off the lights in the garage, closed the garage door. When I came back to her 30 seconds later, I found her in the driver’s seat – pretending that she’s driving. I opened the door and she said, bye bye telling me to to close the door and walk away.
She was immensely precious to us and we feel like our hearts have been ripped out of our chest.
I feel like Humpty Dumpty. We used to sing this song to her. And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men can’t put me back together again. We feel broken.
A great darkness descended on us – it was pitch black and we can’t find a way out. What life is there for us without our precious little girl?
A couple of weeks ago, I preached on the Christian answer to suffering. And I said, the Christian answer to suffering is hope. The certain hope that Christ rose again from the dead and that we too will one day rise from the dead.
This certain hope is our only guiding light. Right now, that hope is dimly lit. But it’s there. And in the midst of this darkness, it’s the only light around. It’s like a single bright star in the night sky. And all we can do is fix our eyes on it.
Don’t get me wrong. This is not a fantasy we made up to make us feel better. This is not superstition passed down through generations. This is the certain hope that comes for the historical fact that God incarnate defeated death 2000 years ago when he rose from the dead.
This is what we fix our eyes on. A day at a time, as we process our grief, this light will shine brighter and brighter and it will one day overcome us for that day will come. The day when Jesus returns to take us home. A day when there will be no more tears, no more pain, no more death, no more grief no more child size coffins … no more goodbyes.
On that day we will see our Lord Jesus … and on that day we will see our Lizzie again, from dust and ash her dead body will rise again and WE WILL continue our adventure with her.
I go to sleep every night now with a simple prayer, Lord Jesus please come tomorrow.
And I wake up for the past few morning, thinking, OK not yet, maybe tomorrow.
Deb and I long for that day to come. And one day it will come.
My brothers and sisters in Christ, especially my beloved in Kingsway. I don’t know when I will stand here to exhort you guys again. So I’ll say it to you now. I hope you’re ready. I hope you are the faithful servants, faithfully doing the tasks entrusted to you. I hope day by day you are living in light of Christ imminent return. You don’t know when God will call your name to take you home. And I already said, I’m praying that he comes everyday. Please be ready. Please don’t be caught off guard. Do the things – you know – God wants you to do. Please be ready.
I am well aware that not all of us here trust in Jesus. I hope you don’t mind all this religious Christian stuff that we’re throwing around. You are one of the most wonderful people we know. You are kind and generous. You are considerate. You love us so much, much more than we deserve. You love your children as much as we do. You understand our pain and our loss. … … But the reality is, you haven’t done your business with God. And one day … he will come … so please don’t leave it too late. Just consider Jesus, check him out, he’s much more than you think he is. It’s not fantasy or make believe – I’m talking about real hard objective reality. Speak to Jeff who preached tonight, talk to a christian friend that you know, or just go and visit a good bible believing church this Sunday. We love you and please forgive us if we never said this to you before, we love you and we don’t want you to miss out.
For that day will come. Jesus will come.
One time, Jesus was talking to a bunch of people who didn’t believe in the resurrection. And Jesus said to them … you’re so silly, don’t you realize what the Bible says .. God is the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, he is the God of the living and not the dead.
God is the God of Lizzie Agahari. God is the God of the living. Lizzie is living … she’s not dead. She’s more alive than we are right now. We, on this earth, we’re dying .. our time will come one day. But Lizzie, she’s already alive with Jesus in the presence of God the Father.
And I hope we can all join her one day.
We realize that we’re not the only who miss Lizzie, she’s touched many of your lives. Many of you only know her from our stories or my sermon illustrations. But you love her. You’re here because you love her. And we are so thankful for your love, for those who have cried with us in the last few days, those who have sent messages of encouragement and hope, those who helped us not to blame ourselves for what happened but rest in God’s sovereign power instead. We are so thankful and we love you.
I hope we can all one day join her on that day, where it will no longer be busy Lizzie’s little adventure – but it’ll be busy Lizzie’s eternal adventure.
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
5 He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.””
Come Lord Jesus come
Darwin and Deb