Waterfalls in Heaven

WATERFALLS IN HEAVEN
Jordan’s Story

By Tiffany Swisher

“In unexplainable tragedies such as these, you either get bitter…or better. It’s up to us to choose which one.” -Pastor Bird, 1996

On August 21, 1996, I was blessed with a perfect baby boy we named Jordan Scott Swisher. The last 3 weeks of my pregnancy had been spent in the hospital battling preterm labor. It was a struggle to keep a little boy inside me who desperately wanted to be born. I used to pat my belly and laugh, telling him I knew he wanted to come out and see the world but it just wasn’t time yet. So, when he was born healthy, we were elated. Jordan had my heart from the first second I saw him. He had the bluest of eyes, so clear and bright. To this very day, no matter how hard I look, I’ve never seen Jordan’s exact shade of blue again. He was a peaceful baby who loved being close to his Mama. Every time his little fingers would get tangled up in my hair his eyes would light up, as if he’d found some exciting treasure. Jordan was the most precious gift I could ever receive and I thanked God for him every day.

But on September 30, 1996, my world shattered. Jordan had been fussy most of the night and just wanted to be held. I was happy to oblige. I piled some pillows behind my back, closed my eyes, and we dozed off together. The second I opened my eyes I knew something was very wrong. Jordan felt heavier somehow, and as most mothers do, I placed my hand upon his little back to feel his breathing. I was met with only stillness. Words can’t explain the panic that sets in, the utter devastation and disbelief. A piece of my heart and soul ripped from my chest as I gave my infant son CPR and waited for the paramedics. Deep inside my mommy instinct knew he was gone, but my head couldn’t accept it.

After my son’s death I became angry with God. Why had he allowed me to work so hard to bring Jordan into the world only to let SIDS snatch him away? How could this possibly be part of the Lord’s plan for me? I grew up in a Christian household, strongly rooted in faith. I was taught that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. But this, the death of my son, was more than I could possibly bear. For the first time in my life I found no solace in prayer. I’d try, but I always ended up asking, “Why me, Lord? And why my perfect boy?” The depths of my despair were so deep that I became lost. Lost to the world and drifting further away from God.

In my darkest hours, I contemplated whether or not I even wanted to go on living. I started to bargain with God asking, “if I make a conscious decision not to put on my seatbelt and get into a car accident, does this constitute taking my own life? And will I see my son again this way?” Every fiber of my being knew how destructive this type of thinking was, and yet I couldn’t help it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette with my life. This was simply unacceptable to God. He was going to fight for me when I was too weak to fight for myself. He began to place people directly in my path who’d play an important role in restoring my faith and leading me back to the Lord.

One such person was an older lady I met in the Garden of Angels, the place my son Jordan is buried. I was kneeling by his grave, distraught and bawling my eyes out. She saw my utter distress and asked me how my son died. I poured out the whole story and finished with, “this isn’t supposed to happen. It can’t be any worse than this!”  She looked straight into my eyes and said, “Yes, it can.” I felt as if I’d been slapped. Those three words enraged me until I heard the circumstances of her grandson’s death. His death had been the opposite as my son’s. I instantly realized how ‘lucky’ I was to lose Jordan in the way I did. I knew if God had come to me and said, “I’m sorry, Tiffany, but I have to take your son tonight.” I would’ve said, “Please, Lord, let him be close to me, let him hear my heartbeat, and let him feel my love.” I got all of those things. You see, God knew how I’d handle Jordan’s death and took him from me in the gentlest way possible. For that, I’m eternally grateful. Between this encounter and others, I started talking to the Lord again. The awful emptiness that had hardened my heart began to ease and I knew God was working on me.

I’ll never forget driving home late one night in the middle of an awful storm. As rain pelted my windshield, sadness crept in and I was missing my son. I wondered how many other broken-hearted parents were staring at that same dark sky and mourning their own children. I thought, “please Lord, give me the words I need to soothe my soul and perhaps theirs.” I suddenly felt his presence so heavily that I had to pull the car over and put pen to paper. I grabbed a Taco Bell napkin off the console and wrote the beginning of the following poem…

WATERFALLS 

Are there waterfalls in heaven where the children go to play?
I’d like to think they head there at the start of every day. 

Jesus comes to tell them, “no roughhousing allowed.”
I don’t think they hear him because their playing is so loud. 

Splashing one another and kicking with their toes,
I can’t help but wonder where all the extra water goes. 

If your down on earth below and raindrops start to fall,
Imagine them in heaven playing water volleyball. 

Grab a book, sit back, relax, and know they’re having fun.
Chances are the rain won’t end until the play is done. 

When it stops, don’t worry, Jesus comes to say,
“It’s time to rest now little ones, you can play another day.”

Tiffany Swisher
January ©️ 1997
In loving memory of
Jordon Scott Swisher

And just like that a downright dreary day had become something quite different. This simple poem was God’s way of saying, “it’s ok, Mama…I’ve got him…I’ve got them.” I can’t tell you how much solace this poem gave me. It was a visual sent straight from heaven. I’ve never shared this poem publicly. I’ve kept it close to me all these years because I was afraid it would break my heart if someone else tried to claim it as their own. Yet, God gave me these words for a reason and it’s time to let them go. If my waterfalls poem can help even one grieving parent it’s worth putting it out there in the universe.

I may never fully understand God’s plan for me and how Jordan’s death fits into it. In a perfect world parents would never outlive their children. But guess what? God didn’t promise us a world free of heartbreak, tragedy, and pain. He did, however, give us what we need to make it through the worst of times….his love and salvation. Now, when life goes sideways, I cling to my faith. I lean into the Lord, instead of away from him. I circle back to the words my pastor stated at Jordan’s funeral, “in unexplainable tragedies such as these, you either get bitter or better. It’s up to us to choose which one.” The good news is we don’t have to decide that on our own.

Proverbs 3:5-6

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding:
In all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

In loving memory of precious Jordan Scott Swisher
-a son, grandson, little brother and cousin.

Thank you to my sister Tiffany, who mustered the courage to share her testimony and her very powerful “Waterfalls” poem for the first time. I am honored she choose The Anchor to share this comforting poem with the world. We pray other parents find solace and comfort with these powerfully penned words. I have no doubt in the hope of heaven, seeing our loved ones again and splashing in these very waterfalls with these precious little ones on day. 

In the storms of life, The Anchor Holds…..