Saturday December 5, 2009

A month ago today my world crushed and fell ~ again.
A month ago today my youngest child flew to Paradise.
A month ago today my hope was crushed.
A month ago today my faith was shaken.
A month ago today my womb became empty again.
A month ago today our future became uncertain.
A month ago today the sackcloth was brought out.
A month ago today we donned our grief.
A month ago today the weeping gates flew open.

Today I am still weeping.
Today I am asking, why?
Today I am so lonely.
Today my hope and faith are trying.
Today my womb itself is crying out.
Today I feel isolated, alone.
Today I feel ashamed, humiliated.
Today my arms ache for the children I can never hold.
Today my breasts ache to nurture and overflow.
Today I wonder what God is doing.
Today I just can’t see.
Today my heart is breaking ~ again.


Here are some pictures of some of our tangible memories (the arrow and the necklace). We also have Peace’s beautiful little handmade-by-Grandpapa box, which sits in our too-crammed china cabinet cupboard with Covenant’s, Glory’s, and Promise’s. We’ve never buried them. I prefer to see them, and feel like my olive plants are still circling our table.


Held” ~ by Natalie Grant

Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we’d be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
We’re asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it’s unfair

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We’d be held

This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We’d be held

If hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We’d be held
We’d be held

This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We’d be held

This is what it means to be held…..


Tears for Peace ~ by Mommy

Teardrops fell when I learned you were growing inside,
Teardrops fell when I first saw you -so little- on the screen,
Teardrops fell when your heart beat in beautiful rhythms,
Teardrops fell when you were delivered into my bloody hand.

Teardrops fall because I love you so incredibly much.
Teardrops fall because you are gone from our home and our arms.
Teardrops fall because your brother is lonely.
Teardrops fall because Mommy and Daddy miss you so extremely.
Teardrops fall because you are our precious, beloved baby ~ but you are so far away.

Each day I feel farther away from you,
Farther from holding you in my belly~
It burns me from the inside out.
But each day I am closer to you,
Closer to when I can join you in Paradise
And enjoy an eternity together without tears.

No matter where I go,
No matter what I do,
I miss you every single moment~
Heartache and emptiness and tears.

My love for you remains,
It always and forever will.
My sweet baby Peace,
We will meet again.
With tears of joy instead of pain.

~I love you, baby dear, and I miss you so much~

One Reply to “Saturday December 5, 2009”

  1. Tears are falling down my face….

    This tribute to Peace is beautifully painful.

    Your crossstich tag is beautifully done. The necklace is beautiful. And your poetry is beautiful.

    Yet it is unbearably sad at the same time. I can certainly see why you’ve never buried any of them. How can you?

    That song by Natalie Grant is very dear to many people I know….

    *hugs* and *tears*,

    I love you,
    Sam

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