Hard-Won Dirt

I woke up feeling hung over from all my crying last night, but felt okay.  I made it though most of worship before the last song took every last bit of composure I had left and I had a complete overflow of emotions.  I ended up downstairs with another grieving friend and we both cried our way through the morning... but at least we were together.  That does two things... it helps me to feel understood (even though our losses were different) and it helps to keep those lovely 'silver lining' people away since I was already talking to someone.  It sounds like a horrible morning, I know... but I do believe God was providing for me in so many ways this morning.  I left exhausted, but I needed that cry.

I had planned to get back to Rachel's grave on Friday and it wasn't possible.  I wanted to Saturday and it didn't happen.  Today we finally got over there.  We got her a different mum plant, same color and I brought hers back home to plant here.  I always like to bring things to her that have been here a while and bring things here that have been there a while.  It helps me feel like we still share things - like part of her is here and part of our home is there.

Back in May when I left that bracelet I had made for her on the retreat,  I continued to wear mine daily since then.  I assumed hers wouldn't hold up as well as mine.  Hers has had the harsh weather of the cemetery to hold up to and mine was just on my wrist.... I guess it's rather symbolic to me that hers is actually in much better shape than mine.

Mine has to do life.  Hers just got to rest and soak in the sun.

I swapped them out and as I slipped hers onto my wrist, I thought about how well she is taken care of.  I'm thankful that she doesn't know the pain of this world... that she never has a chance to reject her Savior... that I don't have the possibility of messing up with her.  She has it all.  She wants for nothing.  Her cloth will never wither and fade. 

Matt brought Asa out of the car and he crawled over to her stone.  He broke her little dancing daisies... I guess it's appropriate that her little brother would break her things...  and he threw her pumpkin around.  I stood back and noticed he was sitting directly above where her little body is buried. 

His bracelet is still white... he is oblivious to the realities all around him.  And maybe that's why I want to keep my kids young so badly.  Maybe it's not about missing them being small as much as it is about knowing they will not be able to avoid the hurts and pains of life.  As they grow, they will realize more and more how much easier it is being a child, but they can never go back.

I fear losing them, their hearts being broken, not being able to save them from making the mistakes I have made.  I fear them walking away from the Only One who can save them from hell.  And I just want to hold them tight forever.  I don't let the fear take over, I let it spur me on to be a better mother and to always put them first, knowing that life is not guaranteed to last a second longer than this very one.  And honestly, as I look at my baby sitting in front of a headstone with my other baby's name on it, I don't care what anyone thinks about that.  If he died tomorrow, as he very well could, I would not regret the time spent with him - even at 2 am because no, he does not sleep through the night and I'm okay with that. I have yet to resent a single night time need and that is a blessing from Rachel. What I wouldn't give to 'have to' nurse her at 2 am.

Every spec of dirt on my bracelet has been hard-won.  Every fray, every germ, every stain.  I love my messy, hard, busy, crazy life.  With all it's ups and downs and in betweens.  I love every long day, every fresh shirt puked on, every chance to live another moment with my family. Even when it hurts or when someone else's bracelet looks prettier.   I'm learning to be content with my dirt.  I actually kinda like it.