“I want you to trust Me in your times of trouble so I can rescue you and you can give Me glory.” Psalm 50:15
It’s hard to believe that in a few days it will be three years since the last time we held our sweet Evie. Memories of her and the loss rush in like a flood during this time. Fortunately, God has planted me on solid ground so when the flood of memories rush in, I don’t get washed away like I did before. However, there’s still something about the anniversary that leaves me feeling a little heavy, sad and reflective.
Since Addy’s arrival, it’s been really tough for me to go back to that part of my past. I haven’t even wanted to visit Evie’s grave. Her grave was such a peaceful place for me. It sits on top of a large hill surrounded by beautiful landscape. I used to love sitting out there watching the geese walk around. I know it’s somewhat strange to imagine a cemetery being calming, but it was. Now that Addy’s here, it reminds me of a tender little body that I love so very much buried under six feet of earth. It reminds me that I could lose my loved ones at any time. God is not selective when it comes to death and I’ll be honest the thought alone still terrifies me. So, to protect my heart, I didn’t go to the cemetery for a while.
I have a small keepsake box to remember Evie and Luke. It’s filled with sympathy cards, baby outfits, pictures; things that help keep their memory alive. I just recently looked at Evie’s pictures again and started sobbing because I felt as if I had neglected her by not wanting to revisit her loss. I also cried because I felt terribly sad for the fact that a box full of “items” is all I have to remember them by. Aside from my memories, these are the only tangible pieces of evidence that they were real, alive and a part of our family. In a sense, a lot of the memories I have of my two children are tucked away neatly in this little box.
I’m intrigued with how grief ends and where healing begins. It reminds me of a wilted flower. Its leaves are droopy, limp and in need of water and sunlight. As soon as the water penetrates its roots and the light hits its leaves, a transformation begins. The stem and leaves stretch high towards the sky basking in the nourishment. Like the wilted flower, our loss reminds me of how God nourished me with His truth, light and grace. The loss left me wilted, but God penetrated my heart healing my broken soul. In the end, I had my hands stretched out to the sky needing more of what only He can provide. I’d like to think that this is where the beauty shines through in my story because when I stopped resisting God, He rescued me.
“Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
Yes, even Peter who was there in His presence struggled with faith. There were many times I would find myself sinking because of doubt, fear and anger. As I was drowning, I would cry out to Christ because even in the middle of the uncertainty of what He was doing, I trusted that He could save me. He did rescue me.
Danny and I were a mess before we opened our heart up to Him, broken in several different places within our hurting souls. The baggage we brought into our relationship left us beaten and bruised desiring our empty hearts to be filled by something or someone. We tried to fill the void with worldly things but it never fulfilled us. We were aimlessly spinning our wheels but getting nowhere. Things changed when we experienced the losses. Unfortunately, it took losing two children for us to start listening to our Savior’s “voice". Their losses changed us drastically. Christ literally gave us a lifeline to hold onto through this pivotal circumstance. It took a while but we finally grabbed a hold of His hand. I’m grateful that we did. I’m grateful that He never gave up on Peter. I’m grateful that He never gave up on us.
