God has given me the strength to get through one more minute, one more hour, one more day.
Tears have come- wondering what he would be like, who he would look like, how he would interact with his brother and sister.
Grieving the fact that I won't be tucking him into bed in a few years- his last night of summer before Kindergarten starts- like I did with his big brother tonight.
Mourning the fact that Lucas won't know his big brother other than through pictures, and Hannah hardly remembers.
Once again, I'm simply exhausted. Not feeling like doing laundry or doing the rest of the dishes. (and if I'm being completely honest- even struggling to blog- which is very unlike me when there is so much on my heart...)
I'm resting, letting the tears fall as they come. Trying to remember the scent of his sweaty little head, the feel of his wrinkly little feet, the sound of his growls from behind the pacifier. Trying to see those big beautiful eyes.
It seems so distant to me. As if he never existed. But he did and he does. Just not with us here on Earth.
There is good. He is well- never having to face another surgery or procedure again in his life. But that dosen't take away my pain.
We have another blessing on the way- a light at the end of the dark and suffocating tunnel of the next few months. But it doesn't erase the pain.
But Jesus knows my pain and He is asking me to just rest in Him. He's asking me to continue to depend on Him fully to get me through the next few days and months. He will give me the strength to get through one more minute, one more hour, one more day.
Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer.
From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe.
I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.