I’m a weepy mess.
Let’s not pretend that I’m sitting here all calm, cool and collected drinking my morning coffee and talking about hard things in a disconnected way. Because I’m connected, deeply, to the hard things and the sweet things and this…this is my story.
This is the story I was both excited about and intimidate by the moment I found out my due date with baby #2. I knew I had a bigger story to tell. But it felt heavy and emotional, and I was intimidated by how sacred it felt. I didn’t want to mess it up.
March has historically been a pretty dark month for my family. It is marked by pain and loss and grieving. On March 25, 2002, my younger sister lost her courageous, Christ-centered battle with cancer at age 12. It was a snowy, devastating day that I’ll never forget, and every March we take time to mourn and heal and remember.
But next March will be a little different for us because 5 days before the anniversary of my sister passing is my due date for this baby, my Ruthie’s little sister.
I still am trying to wrap my head and my heart around it all. Never would I have planned it like this. Never could I have planned it just like this. But the Lord in His infinite wisdom and tender mercies has been weaving healing into my story for so many years, getting my heart and my family ready for this very story.
A new story.
Not a replacement of what was lost, but a nurturing and tender new beginning bringing with it hope, healing and life.
In the darkest of days when grief was so fresh, I never thought a day like this would come. I’m sure I will have dozens of weepy moments and misty-eyed flash backs as I watch my girls grow up. To watch new memories made and friendship blossom and toys be shared and clothes fought over. To experience all the things that sisterhood brings from a new vantage point, yet still inside my own home is a blessing I never imagined would be mine.
God is a God of restoration, a God who always fulfills his promises to bring life after death and turn our mourning into dancing. Sometimes it’s not so literal, but sometimes it absolutely is.
I am not saying these things because I know without a shadow of a doubt I will hold a healthy, baby girl in my arms this coming spring. I am saying them because I am confident that no matter how this story is written, God is at work and He’s doing things bigger than I can see or fully understand.
I do not write out of complete restoration and fulfillment–that’s not something I expect this side of heaven; I write because I have an incredible Hope. And He is so good.
I have not been promised anything more than today, and today there is life kicking inside of me. There is a story to share. And There is a God who is good, who is faithful, and who cares about my story and your story more deeply than you can imagine. The broken pieces, the whole pieces and everything in between.
If you need me I’ll be right over here, flipping through old photo albums and remembering the days of my sister. I’ll be grabbing tissues and grieving my own loss, as you do in each new season. Because I am heading into another delivery for another baby without my sister in my life.
Yet at the same I am nearing the day when my little girl gets to have her sister enter her life. How overwhelmingly wonderful this story is.
And if you need my husband, he’ll be right over there. Brushing long blonde hair with tangles in it and reading bed time stories until she says “nite nite dada” and he oozes out of her room, a pile of mush. He is a hardworking man who loves craft beer, buckeye football and who melts when he gets a kiss from his little girl. He may be outnumbered and fear for the emotional stability of his home, but he is smitten and tender and I cannot wait to see two little girls on his lap while he teaches them about to be treated by a man who loves them dearly.
My sweet daughter, we are preparing our hearts and our home for you . We love you more than you’ll ever know, and we cannot wait to meet you. We are so blessed to be a part of your story, and so thankful that you’re being written into ours.