Bittersweet January

Going on two years. She would be two this April. I would have a two year old running around, no doubt getting into trouble with her sister, playing, fighting, yelling, cuddling. Another pair of feet in the tub. Another tiny body to snuggle in bed. Another car seat taking up room in the back seat of the jeep.

Something deep has begun in me. Something that I just can't shake. A bittersweet feeling.

I realized, just a couple days ago, that I was forgetting. Or maybe just not remembering as clearly as I wanted. That clarity that makes it seem like it was just days ago that I held her. When was the last time I took time to close my eyes and just remember? Remember the feeling of her lips on mine. The satiny waves of her hair beneath my fingertips. The curl of her eyelashes as they laid upon her soft cheeks. The look in her eyes when she first saw me. Or the tiny whimpers she made when she arrived in this beautiful, tragic world.

 It had been too long. Too long had I gone on without staring at her photograph. Too long since I sobbed. Too long since I had seen the slideshow of her birth day.

I found time two nights ago. A time where I could sit quietly and cry. And, remember. And, to just simply miss her. Miss her tiny face that shook my soul. That tiny heartbeat that stole mine away from me.


 And, I remembered. I closed my eyes and felt her tiny lips on mine. Felt her warm skin on my chest. I could hear her cries again. And, they were beautiful.

 January, perhaps is a difficult month. It's the month that I mourned, cried and lived in agony in after our ultrasound in late December. It's the month where we did nothing normal. Nothing seemed right. Nothing was the same.
It was also the month that the Lord saved me. Saved me from myself.

It was the month where He comforted me. The month where He gave me the strength to endure the rest of the pregnancy. The delivery. The death of my sweet baby. The month that He whispered, "It will be ok." Simple words. But, the peace that He delivered was anything but simple. It was a great, deep peace that soaked into my every bone. 

This month, this January, this year, He has gathered me near to His heart again. He never pushed me away, but I pushed Him away. I, with my anger, didn't want to be close. I didn't want to trust again. I didn't want to get hurt again. I had screamed at Him. Cried while I writhed in agony. Wanting to die. Wishing for death to come for me. Not being able to see any light. Just darkness. Forever.

 And, then, a small light appeared eventually. Growing larger and brighter. I could smile again. Laugh. Enjoy moments again. And, then days, weeks, months. But, I still remained distant from God. I prayed.
Just simple prayers at first, halfheartedly.
But, this last week, something has awakened in me.

A deep love growing for my God again. A love that I had thought would not return. A love that may be even deeper than the first love I had for Him. A love that makes me want to cry with happiness. With thankfulness. A thankfulness that He has not forgotten me. He has not turned His back on me, though I turned mine on Him. A thankfulness that He still desires a relationship with me. 

And, a thankfulness that He is caring for my girl. He has given her a safe Haven. A place where I can meet her again. Hug her again. And, cover her in kisses again.

He has replaced my heart with a new one. But, with this heart comes more tender feelings. The callouses are coming off. The ones that I put on to protect myself from more pain and hurt. Underneath, a fragile heart that feels more. Feels love more deeply, and the pain of losing my baby all over again. Just without the anger, this time. A bittersweet pain. A re-freshening of my soul. A heart that has allowed me to fall in love with my husband and little girls all over again. A heart that truly loves God more than anyone else. And, although, an extremely difficult journey to take, He has indeed used it for good. Has fashioned my heart more towards Him than ever before. A heart that I thought would never feel like this again. He has taken my ashes and turned them to beauty.

"we awake to what remains and sift through the ashes that are left behind, but buried deep beneath all our broken dreams we have this hope. I will believe cuz I have seen the signs of spring!

Out of these ashes, beauty will rise and we will dance among the ruins, and we will see Him with our own eyes.

I can almost feel the hand of God reaching for my face to wipe the tears away, and say, "It's time to make everything new."

This is our hope. This is the promise.

That it would take our breath away to see the beauty that's been made out of the ashes..."

                                                                                         ~Steven Curtis Chapman