This wasn’t the newsletter we expected to write. We had anticipated sharing a joyful announcement. Instead, in a way that was sudden and completely unexpected, our sixth baby, Corrie Betsie Baldwin, passed into the arms of Jesus when I was 10 weeks pregnant, on March 5.

In God’s kindness, we had already given our daughter a name while she was still in my womb—something that has never happened this early before. There is a deep dignity in knowing that God created this little one and called her by name, even in her mother’s womb. She is, and always will be, fearfully and wonderfully made. Though we grieve and long for her, we do not grieve as those without hope in eternal things.

A small group of friends and family gathered with us as we buried our daughter in a simple, beautiful service. One thing our house church pastor said has stayed with me: “Corrie Betsie Baldwin will always be a Baldwin. She will look like a Baldwin, and she will call you ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad.’”

We do not mourn as those who are unaware or without hope. Eternity is not ethereal or abstract; heaven is more real and more tangible than this earth. Our bodies will not be made of vapor, and we will not be floating aimlessly on clouds—an image that, at least to me, would make for a dull eternity.

The book of Revelation spends a great deal of time describing the physical dimensions of the New Jerusalem—the city of God that will come down out of heaven to be our home. It gives vivid descriptions of what we will see, hear, touch, and even smell and taste. These images reassure us that eternity is real and tangible. There is a continuity between this present age and the age to come, and that truth gives us both hope and purpose to live fully and faithfully each day we are given.

This hope is for all who trust in Jesus.