I Wait

I have a whole bunch of things to share - and I've been praying about what God wants me to focus on since I can't obviously write them all.  But the last few weeks have been a learning experience, a blessing and honestly, went by way to fast.

I wasn't going to blog until I had it all figured out - and then this morning happened.

I woke up, feeling the 3rd on my heart.  The 3rd of every month will always belong to Rachel - except Desirae's in January.  Matt let me sleep in until 8:30.  I came down and poured a cup of coffee and sat to continue where I left off last night on - yes, still working on the race - race stuff.

Right now I'm writing out Thank You's.

So, with soft praise music from on our under-the-counter radio and the kids playing in the other room, I started writing.  Surrounded by things to be thankful for - all from God, because of Rachel. A warm house to live in with a beautiful family.  A hot cup of yummy coffee.  A husband to love and be loved by.  I still hurt.

And honestly, I'm so tired of it.

Have you ever cried so hard that your body shook?
Has a part of your body ached so long that you wonder if it will ever stop?
Have you ever felt like no matter how many people are around you, you're still alone?

This is my morning.  I can imagine it doesn't make sense to many people since it has, after all, been 21 months since she came and went.  I'll admit this morning - right now as my tears still fall - I can't help but ask God when He will remove this pain and wonder the very same thing.... when will this let up?  This has been the longest 21 months I have ever experienced.  The darkest and most beautiful at the same time. 

I've been told by some lovely people in some very not-so-nice ways that IF I would just LET HIM, He would.  Well, I'm here to tell you that I have been surrendered to Him since day 1 with this trial and it doesn't work that way.  How I wish it was that simple.  How I wish I could think my way positively to a less painful reality.  I wish I could look at my table right now, seeing her little hands perfectly forming a heart on all the notes full of reasons to be thankful for her life and death and have a feeling of happiness well up inside me.  And sometimes it does.  But more often than not, I cry.  That does not mean I don't have joy from the blessings she has brought - I do. And I want you to know that I am MORE THAN thankful for it all - for you all.  But something I never knew before Rachel is that joy, hope, love - they all can exist and quite often only exist to this extent, when there is great sadness and pain too.

And so I wait on heaven.  I wait on the day when that joy, hope and love will exist without the pain.  I wait on a day when I can see her, touch her, hold her and worship God with her.  A day I can see what she looks like with the top of her head.  A day when I can see her dance outside of my womb and hear her giggle.  With every word I write about her, every thank you I send for her, every blessing I see because of her... I ache, I cry, I smile, I love, and I long for heaven.... and I wait.