Quiet Beauty

Yesterday I worked on a few things for my Little E's party next week.  After I finished, I sat on the couch and read to the boys for a while.  Eventually everyone but Des had left the room.  Matt had some instrumental music playing on the TV.... it's funny how music without a word can remind you of someone.....

I started to think about my girl... and looked around at all the photos and other memories I have scattered throughout my living room.  I looked over at Des and said "I wonder what Rachel would be like now."  She said she would probably be cute like Asa and her and Asa would probably really like each other. 

The music continued to move me and I looked up at the drawing that my friend Chloe drew of our family with what I envisioned Rachel to look like now in it.... and I started crying....  I miss her, I miss what we miss - if that makes sense.   Sometimes it's easier to remember her as the little baby I got to hold than to try to comprehend how much she would bring to my life if she were still here.  Those are the moments I grieve so much.  God, I miss her..... 

The song ended and my sadness let up....  I realized the music had brought me to a place in my heart where Rachel still lives and brought my love for her to the surface.  I asked Des what the name of the song was (our TV is smaller than a lot of people's computer screens and I'm blind so I couldn't see it)

"Quiet Beauty" she said.

Of course a song called "Quiet Beauty" brought my Rachel Alice to mind and heart....  she is the definition of "quiet beauty" in my life.  I never heard a single sound out of her.  Not a squeak, a cry... or even a breath.  I heard nothing.  And that was part of the unexplainable beauty that I experienced in those short 43 minutes with her as I waited for Jesus to take her home.

When I told her I loved her - she didn't tell me she loved me back.
When I told her I was sorry, that I had tried - she didn't forgive me or reassure me that I didn't fail her.
When I told her that Jesus loved her..... those were the only words I said to her that I felt like she knew what I meant.... I said it and it really felt like our souls were joined in that love - and they are. 

When I think back to the operating room on December 3, 2010.... holding her while they stitched me up and realizing that she wasn't going to stay as long as I had thought or hoped....  the song on the radio singing "I'm finding myself at a loss for words and the funny thing is, it's okay..." nobody talking, not even Matt & I.... just the beeping of the machines and the "Word of God Speak" playing.... and silently waiting for her to go....   

If I was to try to sum up what it felt like.... the peace that passes understanding, the love, the hope of eternity in heaven, Jesus and all that He is to us and His amazing presence that day, and the intimacy with people I did not know but who were a few of the only people to ever meet her alive....  I would say it was the most quiet beauty I have ever experienced. 

We went to a party last night for the 4th of July fireworks.  We haven't been out to fireworks in a few years because with little kids, it tends to be a really late night and babies can really be scared by them... so we usually just stay home.  We went and the kids had so much fun - and Asa wasn't scared at all!  At one point, I waved at Des who was sitting a little ways away from us and Sam thought I was waving at the fireworks.  He started waving every time a new one went off while saying "Pretty pretty Ma- Ma!" over and over...  it was so cute.  I could hear Isaiah with his friends yelling "Awesome!" with each bang and Asa just hung out on Matt's lap and watched (probably really confused with where we had taken him to way past his bedtime!) :)  I, of course, wondered what Rachel would have thought of the colors....

As the grand finale echoed, I missed the entire thing because I couldn't take my eyes off these amazing kids who were just so cute and excited.... and all mine for now.... 

We left and since we were right around the corner from Rachel's grave, I asked Matt to swing through so I could see how bright her lights were.  As we pulled in, I noticed that you can see them from FAR away... they are SO bright!  The daisy lights I hooked onto her plant look like a crown above her stone and they change colors so gently that it is hard to stop looking at them.  Matt pulled up and shut the headlights off so we could see how lit up her spot was....

It was quiet.
It was beautiful.

And I couldn't help but think how that quiet beauty stole my attention so much more than the loud and extravagant fireworks we had just sat under.  Hundreds of people watched those fireworks....they weren't for any particular person.  They are pretty and fun, but they are not full of personal love.  But this spot, her spot - her entire life, death and legacy - is full of personal, quiet, beautiful love.

I thanked God for how He has allowed me to experience something so unique and special - even with the pain it brings - for the richness it brings to my life, for the personal love He has lavished on me through this trial, for the moments where only Matt & I truly understand what something like a bright cemetery spot means - and the closeness it brings to our marriage to have walked this journey together with God. 

I thank my God for how much Rachel Alice Aube taught me without saying a single word and for every time He has reminded me that her story went exactly as it was supposed to.

Here is the song....