Thursday, December 22, 2016

In your ninth year...

I know I have not been active for a very long time on Blogger. I originally started this as an outlet as I walked through the earliest moments of living a new life clothed in grief. Reading back on the earliest posts, sifting through the tragic emotions-raw and fragile-I don't think I knew if I was ever going to be "normal" again. 
Then, it felt like a never ending sea, riding a shipwrecked vessel, wondering when solid ground would appear. Riding a wave of hope, feeling the ups and downs of it's current. Looking up to the Heavens and praying for shelter, for protection, for answers for the loss and the damage and the empty.
Daniel, be proud, please. In these years, Mommy has found that ground. Each year, more is revealed. God gives more view of the surroundings within my life. He places people onto this ever-growing firm platform. People for me, for your family. People who need us to share God. People who we need to share their God. While we will never fully know why this side of Heaven, God this year has shown the beauty in the suffering while we do wait. It's been in His word and in His earthly world. I know each step and path to this moment was lighted by Him. I will NEVER forget He makes beauty from ashes, comfort from pain, growth from loss. He is beauty. He gave us you and when your purpose was complete, He promised us you for forever. He reminds us of His promise in the smell of roses-sudden and overpowering. In your sister and brothers. Emma with her eyes-a glimpse into you-and her life itself. With Andrew and his unruly hair and passion for family closeness. With Jake and his growth as the older brother, in his memories and tenderness for those memories. With your Daddy and his love for all of us. His dedication to his family. And God is there when I still call out, when the tears fall. When my eyes close in remembrance of you. Trying to draw upon your face and hands-oh those hands-your little ears that always stuck out a bit, your crooked toe, the freckle on your bottom. He is there when I wish I had more time to know you and be a better Mom for you.
He shares Himself in this Christmas season. Maybe it's no coincidence that we celebrate your life with the story of Jesus'? This season, I have learned lessons in this waiting. Faith and hope and love can remain in the waiting. I have been reminded of suffering and hurt ultimately ends with peace and joy. Because through it all, my eyes are on Him. It will be well. I trust in this.
Daniel, I love you with a fierceness that transcends space. As my son, you have made me. I couldn't be perfect for you, but you loved me in spite of that. Your life continues to guide me so that someday we can truly live, and live perfectly together. 
Each of your family today will be reminded of you, what you meant to each of us. I pray today-and every day your memory passes within us-you know this and feel it. 5 years away from us, 9 years aged in our hearts, infinite time together. My hope and strength rests in that.
I love you, sweet boy. Until then.