I'm feeling a bit melancholy today...actually, I've been that way, on and off, since March began.
I've had this date in the back of my mind, tucked away with the "If only's" and the "What if's".
Today was Josiah's due date.
And even though I'm not big on the whole "due date" thing, (since less than 10% of babies come on their "expected" date), today is still a reminder of who we don't have in our arms. Of what we lost. Of what we expected March to be like.
Overall, we are doing better each day. But we still have moments (and will always have them) of looking at our two babes here on earth and wondering what it would have been like with three. What sorts of trouble would the two brothers, only 20 months apart in age, have gotten into? How many "I want to hold him now!" fights would I be breaking up each day? Would Danae be sitting next to me, nursing her dolls, just as she did when Caedon was born? And how I miss that sweet, completely distinctive smell of a newborn that doesn't seem to fade until they are at least six months old.
While we celebrate the fact that our Josiah is with Jesus, we still miss him everyday. That doesn't ever go away. Today we remember the 32 weeks I was blessed to hold my son, and we look forward to holding him again someday in Heaven.
Today, six weeks after having a c-section, I went for my first run in a long time. An out and back, turning around at a road one short mile away and walking home. It was only a mile or so, at what seemed like a turtle's pace, but it felt almost therapeutic. Probably was.
I have had a lot to think and wonder about these days. Lots of questions still flood my mind on almost a daily basis about Josiah's death - both physical questions about his condition and spiritual questions for God. The "whys" are still there, but things are a bit different lately.
In the first few weeks after my son died, the pain felt raw. A mention of Josiah's name sent me to tears, as did the sight of anyone else's beautiful newborn. As the days flew by, I continued to tell myself and others that I was not angry with God for what happened...just sad and disappointed.
Here's the real truth: I was angry. I wanted answers. I needed to know "why" - not so much an explanation of Josiah's physical sickness, but more so an explanation from God. I had finally accepted the fact that we will never know why Josiah was so sick, but I had not accepted what I perceived as God turning His back on us. I had been wrestling with God, unable to worship, pray, crack open my Bible, or enjoy church as I had previously. Until last Wednesday morning.
That morning I was up (and alert) somewhat early, with enough time to get ready for work and maybe read a bit before an invasion of my "little people". Being that we had church small group that night and I had not read the chapter, I got to it. We are currently reading "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan. (It's an incredible book with the potential to drastically change your walk with the Lord. Not small change. Big change. You have been warned.) The chapter was on being a "lukewarm Christian" and provided 18 descriptions of what that meant...absolutely convicting descriptions of which most of us fit the bill perfectly. I finished the chapter and walked away feeling like I wanted to be more and do more with my faith, but unsure of how to jump this hurdle of disappointment and hurt. Then, on my way to work, the chorus of a song I was listening to hit me hard:
There on the storm I am learning to let go Of the will that I so long to control. There may I be in your arms eternally I thank you, Lord, you are the calmer of the storm.
During that 30-minute drive to work, crying most of the way and trying to avoid hitting Amish buggies and other drivers alike, I realized I had not let go of the anger and the desire for answers. I had not accepted that God is the one who is in complete control and knows all things, not me. He doesn't need to explain anything to us measly humans. If we knew all that God knows, then He wouldn't be God.
I was left with a choice to make: Do I continue in this life with a cloud around my head, living a "so-so" lukewarm Christian life, not living out my faith as I should be, and continually asking God "why"? Or do I relinquish control and accept His sovereignty?
As much as I want answers, deep down I know that I'll never have them this side of Heaven. I need to be okay with that. We all do.
So, yes, things are getting better day by day. That doesn't mean that Josiah isn't on my mind constantly or that I've "gotten over" his death. The grief, sadness, and crying are still there...just not as severe or painfully raw. I know there will be more highs and lows in the coming weeks, months, and years...and that it's okay to have those low days. But I also know that God is molding, teaching, and carrying us through.
Here is the song that I mentioned above. Just click the "Play" arrow. (Thank you, Kara, for the beautiful CD!)
Most times I have the best of intentions. Lots of decorative or craft ideas floating around in my currently jumbled brain, but not many that actually present themselves as a tangible object. I'd like to be "crafty" but can't seem to make it happen that often.
This weekend's sunshine and warmer temps here in the Northeast must have turned the key in my head and set a few things straight. I've had an old window sitting in our barn since last summer, when Hubby replaced all 21 windows in our super old house. Inspired by my lovely friend Aimee, I wanted to re-purpose the window into a chalk board for my kitchen. There sat the window, for almost 8 months, as well as the chalkboard spray paint and red spray paint for the frame. During Saturday's "my time" (a.k.a. the kids' naptime) I dusted off the cobwebs and got to work.
Here's the window before:
And here she is, in all her glory:
Hubby helped my nervous self by sanding the wood a little and doing the first coat of red, and then I broke loose and finished her up. Four red coats and four chalkboard paint coats later, and the project was complete!
