Monday, November 15, 2010

The Third Monday of November

I sat on the couch in my pajamas. Chris had gone to work. My mom was sitting in the recliner we had hauled up in September with a bassinet and a crib. They were in the room upstairs that was supposed to be his in March, still in travel condition. My dad and sister had returned to West Virginia.

I remember my words and the tears and my mother's arms and her tears that morning.
He is supposed to be here with me.

Today sitting on the same couch in a house far from that one. My tears still well in my eyes with grief, but I know things now that I didn't then and as I did then so now I find the things that speak His love and bring joy to my heart.

:: comments that tell me that I am not alone in feeling the weight of his life ::
:: friends here who know the story and ask ::
:: yellow grocery store daisies and pink cards delivered on the day ::
:: the blanket unfinished ::
:: early ultrasound pictures ::
:: cards filled with kind words ::
:: a recording ::
:: the angel and two bears, gifts for mother and child::
:: a box in our closet ::
:: touching love ::

And those two

:: boys with brown eyes and round faces ::
:: girls who ask for more babies ::

who will never replace him, but who like him are good gifts of transformation from a God who proves Himself so faithful.

holy experience

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