Hattie’s 24th Birthday

Sunday marked what would have been Hattie’s 24th birthday.

As I reflect back on her life with us—ten months and six days—I am reminded again of what the Word of God tells us: that the Lord has numbered our days. Scripture reminds us that before the foundations of the world were laid, God already knew Hattie, and He had already destined her life to be a gift to Laurie and to me.

The psalmist writes, “All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” (Psalm 139:16). And earlier in that same psalm, we are told, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13). Hattie was never an accident. Her life was intentional, purposeful, and lovingly formed by the hand of God.

Hattie was placed into our arms on February 1, 2002. And on December 6, 2002, her life here in the seen and temporal world was finished. I like that word better than ended—because her life did not cease. On that day, she was healed in heaven.

Scripture tells us that “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). While our faith was tested in ways we never imagined, we held fast to the promise that Hattie was now living—fully alive—in the presence of Jesus.

During our time in the hospital, sometime around midnight after nearly twenty-four hours there, Laurie and I were placed in a conference room. We were given a chair that folded into a small bed, and there we slept. That night, I had a dream.

In that dream, I could see Hattie’s hand in the hand of Jesus. I could see the hole in His wrist. And what washed over me was a deep and unshakable knowing: Hattie was home. She was safe. She was whole. She was no longer sick. She was more alive than ever before. And I knew, with a certainty that did not come from myself, that I would see her again.

Jesus tells us, “Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:19). And the promise of Scripture is that death does not have the final word. “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain” (Revelation 21:4).

These are not ideas we cling to. They are promises.

Laurie and I are reminded of them sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, sometimes monthly—and especially around the anniversaries of Hattie’s birth and the day she was ushered into heaven. Our faith does not rest in rules, rituals, religion, or tradition. Our faith rests in the promises of God, fulfilled and secured in the person of Jesus Christ.

So as we remember and celebrate the life of Hattie on February 1, 2026—at the age of 24—may this also encourage you. May it remind you that God is faithful, that His promises are sure, and that life in Him does not end—it is finished here, and fully begun there.

Blessings Andy & Laurie