07/24/2015
I rush around filling the car,
checking off my list. It’s in my head, but nonetheless. As check marks fill up,
the butterflies in my stomach become restless. The ride to Columbia is long and
quick at the same time. I am scared to see her. I pray that I will not ache. I
pray that my heart will not drop when I see baby things. I pray that God will
change my heart to look more like His; that my eyes will not see my loss but
the beauty of life and my best friend becoming a mother. I pray that God will give
me a peace only He can. I pray that God will give me comfort only He can. I
pray that I can put others before me.
I am cautious at first. I am guarded.
I struggle to meet her eyes. And then when I hug her, I feel her belly, I feel
the love and her hurt for me emanating from the strong hold of her arms, and
God fills me. He fills me with gratitude and love and reassurance. He takes
away the butterflies.
My God is so big. He lives inside me
and He held the sadness and loss of my baby in one hand and my love and
gratitude for my best friend and her baby in another. They no longer overlap.
The stroller doesn’t make me look the other way, as I feared. The nursery
doesn’t send me running as I feared. I felt joy to see her and be with her without feeling my own
sadness. My comfort is no longer the most important thing. I cannot wait to see
the joy on her face in the morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment