Chapter Eleven: The Fallen Grain of Wheat—The Fruit Left by a Brief Life
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” —John 12:24, KJV
This verse is where the name “Little Wheat” began.
Later, it also became a verse our family could not avoid whenever we looked back again and again on his nineteen months of life.
But now, as this book approaches its conclusion, I must say one thing more clearly than before.
A Grain of Wheat Points First to Christ
John 12:24 is not, first of all, an explanation of why a child died.
Nor does it first tell us that every death will automatically produce something beautiful.
The Lord Jesus spoke these words as He was going toward the cross.
The true grain of wheat who fell into the ground, gave Himself for the world, and thereby brought salvation and life is Jesus Christ Himself.
His death has a unique redemptive meaning.
He gave His life for sinners.
He bore human sin.
He rose from the dead.
His death and resurrection are the foundation of our salvation and our hope of resurrection.
Therefore, Little Wheat's death cannot be placed alongside the death of Christ.
Little Wheat did not atone for anyone's sin.
His death cannot save anyone.
Nor is his suffering a sacrifice that needs to be romanticized.
There is only one source of salvation: Jesus Christ.
⸻
Why, Then, Do We Still Call Him “Little Wheat”?
Because this name already existed in our family before he was born.
At that time, we did not know what would later happen.
Mommy gave him this nickname simply because she hoped that a tiny life might be like a seed:
growing,
taking root,
bearing fruit.
Later, when his life stopped at only nineteen months, we looked back at the name and it naturally took on a deeper meaning.
But that meaning is not:
“God caused this child to die so that other people could be saved.”
That is not something we have the right to say.
What we truly can say is:
Even an extremely brief life may still leave fruit in the lives of those who come after.
This is a testimonial application, not a redemptive application.
The original manuscript had already written:
“Not for redemption, but for witness; not for atonement...”
In the canonical edition, this boundary must become the most important theological boundary of the whole of Chapter Eleven.
⸻
The Fruit You Left Behind
Little Wheat, your life first changed Daddy.
I have been a pastor for many years.
I have preached about the heavenly Father.
I have preached about faith.
I have preached about suffering.
I have preached about entrusting.
But after holding my own child, many words that had once remained in the pulpit and in books suddenly entered flesh and blood.
I began to understand again:
what it means to be a father.
what weakness means.
what presence means.
what loss means.
and why Scripture's calling God “Father” carries such profound weight.
⸻
You also led Mommy to experience “entrusting” more deeply.
She held you.
Fed you.
Sang to you.
Stayed beside your bed.
When you were critically ill, of course she did not want to let go.
So “entrusting” is certainly not a mother lightly saying:
“It doesn't matter. I give him to God.”
True entrusting sometimes means that at the very moment when we most want to hold on, we acknowledge that we do not have the power to control the outcome.
There are tears in it.
Resistance.
Prayer.
And love.
⸻
You also changed the way we as husband and wife understand worship.
We once sang hymns through tears in the hospital.
Not because the pain had become unreal.
But because we discovered:
A person can grieve and still pray to God at the same time.
Faith is not:
“I no longer hurt.”
Sometimes faith is simply:
“Lord, I hurt deeply, but I am still here.”
⸻
Fruit Also Appeared in the Lives of Others
After Little Wheat passed away, we heard some people's responses.
Some treasured their own children more.
Some began praying again.
Some began thinking again about how brief life is.
Some came to church.
Some began caring more for people who were grieving.
Some, because of this story, began facing their own relationship with God again.
Pastor John also recorded, from the perspective of another witness, how the church community learned more deeply through this experience to love one another, weep together, pray, and serve.
These responses are precious.
But we still need to remain humble.
We cannot say:
“Every good thing that happened afterward happened because Little Wheat had to die.”
Still less can we say:
“Since there has been this fruit, losing our child was therefore worth it.”
No.
If we could choose, we would still want to watch him grow up.
We would want to hear him speak.
We would want to hold his hand.
We would want to send him to school.
We would want to walk with him through a longer life.
The fruit that came later cannot cancel the original loss.
Grace does not require us to call tragedy beautiful.
⸻
Providence: What We Know, and What We Do Not Know
In grief, people deeply want to know:
“Why?”
Why this child?
Why at this time?
Why were our prayers not answered in the way we asked?
This book has not received a detailed explanation from heaven.
Nor can we say:
“Now we finally understand completely why God did this.”
We do not understand.
We believe God is Lord.
We believe He is holy, righteous, and loving.
We believe that history will not ultimately escape His rule.
But this does not mean that we know the hidden reason behind every particular suffering.
Therefore, regarding Little Wheat's illness and death, we are willing to hold two things together:
First, we still trust God.
Second, we acknowledge that we do not know all the answers.
These two statements do not contradict one another.
Rather, together they are a more truthful faith.
⸻
“Though He Is Dead, He Still Speaks”
In the original manuscript, I once wrote:
“Though you are dead, you still speak.”
I am willing to preserve that sentence.
But it does not mean that Little Wheat is now sending messages to us from the unseen world.
It is testimonial language.
It means:
After a person's life has ended, the fact that he once existed, the love he left behind, and the people he influenced may continue to have a voice in this world.
His photographs still remind us.
His story still reminds us.
Everything we experienced because of him still reminds us:
Life is short.
Love must not be delayed.
Human strength is limited.
Death is real.
The gospel must be about Jesus.
The hope of resurrection must be stronger than our imagination.
⸻
How We Continue to “Bear Fruit”
The ones who truly need to continue bearing fruit are those of us who are still alive.
Daddy is still on earth.
Mommy is still on earth.
The church is still on earth.
So the responsibility for “bearing fruit” next should not be placed on a child who has already passed away.
It falls on us.
Daddy must continue preaching.
But not by turning every sermon into Little Wheat's story.
Rather, this experience should make me preach Christ more faithfully.
Mommy continues singing.
Not to remain forever in grief, but so that someone who has known pain can accompany others more gently.
The church continues serving.
Not by turning a child into a religious symbol, but by loving one another more genuinely.
If Little Wheat's life truly left a seed, then its real fruit should be seen in whether:
we love God more.
we love people more.
we treasure life more.
we face suffering more honestly.
we proclaim Jesus Christ more faithfully.
⸻
So, Little Wheat,
you are still “Little Wheat” in Daddy and Mommy's hearts.
That name will not change.
But now, we finally understand more clearly than we did at first:
You are not the grain of wheat who redeemed the world.
Christ is.
You are simply a child we deeply love.
A child whose life was very short.
A child who truly came, was loved, and left a testimony.
And if your story can ultimately turn anyone's eyes toward Christ,
that is the fruit we most desire to see.
⸻
You no longer live within the earthly daily life we can touch.
But your nineteen months have entered the history of our lives.
We still remember you.
We still love you.
We are still learning, because of you, how to live.
And we continue to wait:
not for you to become the end point of the story,
but for the Lord who truly fell into the ground and rose again from the dead—
Jesus Christ.