Skip to main content

Honored Little Ones

This post is about when I lost Miriam but it's in honor of all the babies I have in Heaven.
Alexandria Joy - February 1995
Jeremiah Michael - September 2012
Hope Isabella - October 2014
Miriam Grace - July 2016

The flowers they brought sit on the counter. Untouched. They're beautiful, and I'm grateful, but they're not for pleasure they're for the dead. To touch them somehow means to accept that she's...dead.

For two days they sit. Finally, one by one the stems are arranged and into that corner of my darkness they bring the beauty I needed.

I know tomorrow is the day - so I curl into the cushion as if it's a mothers embrace. Lap heaped with a mess of cream and I weave a blanket for our baby to be wrapped in.

Buried in.

With each stitch my heart is torn right through. The loss of dreams. Nights I'll never have to hold her close. No tickles. No laughter. No kisses or prayers or bedtime stories. No unruly hair to brush in the morning. No tea parties or baby dolls to play. No sister close in age for Chaela. Nothing. But the ache of losing her.

The next day we cradle her within the dirt and with the last shovel heaped upon her everything in me breaks. I want to scream - claw my baby from earth's grasp. I sit. Still. Say words just between her and I. Wipe the tears and order my steps. Beg God to just help me through...today. I do the dishes, make the bed, scrub toilets, laundry, dinner. I carry on the dance of life. What else can I do? I walk among the living.

When all goes black the house sits still and the earth drinks.  My thoughts arrest me - Is the blanket I made going to keep her warm?  Crazy thoughts!  I know she's not here - yet she is.

Heaven seems too far.

Weeks go by.  Those blooming stems dried up and faded - still they sit in the vase.  Throw them out? They're the only tangible evidence that she was ever here.

The souls within these walls sleep as I rock my sweet Michaela Shalom.
Shalom.
Peace.
He's given me peace.  Acceptance of His choice.
Yet I feel her absence and the emptiness remains.
She should be rocking with us but she's gone.
She lies under the changing maple and I too am forever changed.

The next day I open the screen and it's blinking back at me. As the message unfolds, my eyes blink back tears of joy. For the first time since our baby was carried away I feel joy. Pure. Deep. Joy. I smile. Genuinely. Through tears of thankfulness I get a glimpse of God's redeeming work. And the heaviness of heart feels a bit lighter. Losing her is still not how I would have scripted the story but perhaps that was the only way for a long awaited answer to prayer.

Until then...
Jessie

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Invisible Monster

May 23, 2020, I woke to a miracle surrounding a loved one. Later, I sat in the gardens watching butterflies perch upon lavender lilacs while my Sweet Shalom giggled and chased after them. It had been a perfect day. The air was warm, but the skies overcast like a storm was about to roll in.   Life changes quickly...    The message flashed on the screen.        Wait - he's gone? Dear...I don't know what to call you, I've always wondered, with the slamming of the prison door, did you know what your choices would cost your children? Did you care?  My grandpa knew you as a kid. He was your pastor, said your parents were good people. He said you were a good kid too, but somewhere along the journey you lost your way.    You lost your way... and I was one of many that paid for your choices.      One of my last visits with you left me with a shoulder injury. The physical pain is a reminder that children should never have to v...
Post a Comment
Read more

Light Always Wins

 I was seven when I stepped foot into the Tel Aviv Airport accompanied by my stepdad - a Palestinian. The Israeli soldiers stood armed as they ripped through each of our suitcases, pulled my dad into a room for questioning, and detained us for several hours. We were not there as tourists. We were on our way to Jericho to visit family... but we were the enemy. Even at seven the hatred between all was undeniable. As a child I did not comprehend fully but I remember...fear. Walking the roads of that country for a month is an experience I will never forget. I remember once being at a family member's home while they argued over who was right, the Jews or Palestinians. I remember the tears, the anger, and shouting. I can't recall most of the words spoken that day. I don't know whose argument was stronger. What I do know is...what the Bible says about God's chosen people, and that in war... no one wins...even when it is necessary there is always suffering for both sides. The J...
Post a Comment
Read more
 Written 2/18/21 February - I would be delighted if this month never existed. In reality it’s the shortest of the year, but each day can feel tormenting to walk through...this week in particular.    2/18/10 was the day we found out those 2 little ones we planned to adopt would never be ours.  The room we had made in our hearts would remain empty.  The crib empty.  The clothes newly washed and hanging were packed back into tubs. Closet and drawers empty. Dreams lost.  Hearts shattered. 2/16/17 was Miriam’s due date. Instead of snuggling and breathing in a fresh babe our perfect girl lay cradled in dirt.  She would have been 4 this year...4.  It’s the first year Kai didn’t remember...didn’t ask to make her birthday cupcakes or take her flowers.  I didn’t remind him.  His little heart needs to heal and move on.  As her mom, I’ll never forget. Even though I move forward a part of my heart was lost, and I will never be the same. 2/1...
Post a Comment
Read more