Tomorrow, it has been 6 months. The time is crawling by, and I miss you terribly. These last few weeks have been sad for me. We set up the Christmas tree and I lost it. My heart screams “you should be HERE! Ripping the ornaments off the tree, tearing open wrapped presents, making this Christmas the merriest…” My mind knows God knows better. Your brothers ask about you and continue to talk about you. In fact, they say they are thankful for you. And they want to get you a Christmas gift. Halle is obsessed with babies, specifically little ones that are sleeping. Sometimes I wonder if she is looking for you. I want to tell her you are no longer a baby. At least not ours. But still, I think about what you might look like, what you would be doing. You would most likely be crawling, making funny faces and loving your new found food. What you are enjoying right now is far better than jarred carrots, and a life here.
Mine and your daddy’s prayer, before you were born, was that your life would make an impact for God’s kingdom. We assumed you were this miracle baby that we would have a lifetime to watch grow up and hopefully make a difference on this side of life. We never thought for one minute it would actually be your death, that would take hold of the microphone so to speak. You have not been taken from us in vain. You see Friday, God gave me an abundance of love and strength to do what I never thought was humanly possible. Share my testimony of Salvation, life after loss, and what and where our true hope is, with other mommy’s in a big group. By His grace, I was able to stand up and share how good our Abba is. Amidst all the trials, pain…it was losing you that is the most devestating. God has been faithful to show us some good that has come from you crossing the threshold into eternity, before us.
My love, you have forever changed my life. For the better. Through grieving the loss your life, and seeing the fruit that is coming from you going to be with God, your daddy and I have an unspeakable peace. It is not the peace that comes before entering a trial. It is the kind where we are continually riding the waves of grief, but we are in a boat now, protected from the despair and fear grief brings. The waters are no longer murky and deep, we can see a little further down and forward. We can taste the calm. These past few days I have taken mental inventory of the countless good God has graciously given us. We are so thankful for so many reasons, but today sweet child, I am thankful for the way God has eternally blessed me by your life and homecoming. I miss you always, and love you more than will ever know.