Back to the grind

Erin made us this beautiful subway art.

I'm just going to admit this.  Usually after I have been positively affected by something, I get excited and changed for a few days, and then slowly the fervor dies down; worse, it almost becomes depressing.  I was hoping that I would be okay coming back to the "real world", a world that I cannot discuss picking out your child's casket or having baby flab without the baby.

This week was a bit of a blur, as I seemed to be playing catch up all week.  I am still digesting all of the weekend and what the Lord blessed me with through it all.

Chet and I decided to rest and enjoy each others company today.  I read parts of Traveling Light by Max Lucado for the second time this morning (thank you Sunday School/Coffee Girls), and was convicted a lot about resting.  I am so grateful for days like today, when Chet and I can push aside all the "to-dos" and just enjoy being together.  I remember a few months ago that Saturdays would hurt so much.  I would wake up and cry for a few hours before I could do anything, even shower.  Chet and I had a very difficult time enjoying Saturdays.  Now I wake up on Saturdays and think about what God is doing in our lives.  I still cry on occasion, feel numb a lot, and always wish I could go back in time, but the pain is not as raw.

I have continually been amazed at what a year can do in a life.  We discussed where we were as a couple [and future parents] last February.  I remember loving Psalm 139:13-14 when I was pregnant, so I read the whole chapter today.  I do not think it's just a coincidence that the context of the chapter is so amazing.

Psalm 139:11-18:

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.  

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.  

Holden's life is just as it should be.  Nothing more and nothing less.  His short life with us was ordained before the beginning of time.   

How precious to me are your thoughts, God!  How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand-when I awake I am still with you.  

His plans are precious.  When we awake from the darkness, He is still with us.

(I highly recommend you read the entire chapter, as it proclaims how much He cares for us!)

I still feel the hefty 'weight' of empty arms.  I still wake up at 3am thinking about my baby in heaven.  I still wonder what parenting is like.  I still roll over and listen to my husband sleeping, knowing how much he misses his son and wants to be a Daddy. 

Yet, I can wake up with joy.  A child in our arms does not give us everlasting joy.  Everlasting joy cannot be taken away.  Thank you Jesus for reminding us of your plans for our lives, each and every day.  Especially Saturdays.