The other day I found my mind wondering over the past year and the few that came before it.  I was thinking back on all that had happened and the changes that had taken place, and then I realized something.  It’s ONLY been five years.  Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago that Samuel was born, but it’s only been five short years. 

I remember I was sitting on the edge of the bed when the phone rang.  It was Scott calling to tell me that Samuel was gone.  I remember lifelessly falling back onto the bed and crying to Jesus, “I will never make it through this.  My pain and impatience will be the end of me.”  Usually when I speak to Jesus I can feel His words, but not this time.  This time I just felt Him.  I felt Him as He helped me put on my shoes and as He helped me stand up.  I knew what His silence meant.  There could be no reasoning or rushing through grief and instead I was going to have to trust that He would see me through.  That moment was one of the first times I felt true peace.

I felt that same kind of peace again the day I found my mind looking back over the past five years.  Not because I’ve overcome anything, but because I can see how far He’s brought me.  He’s torn down each obstacle I’ve placed in my own way and has taken me out of every comfort zone I created.  He took the two things I was sure I couldn’t handle and in five short years made them into blessings.  That peace gives me courage for the new year ahead.  I know it will include more pain than I think I can bear and more patience than I think I have, but I trust that He will see me through.

I am leaving you with a gift, peace of mind and heart.  And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give.  John 14:27

I never sugar coat the things that I share. I just don’t think that does anyone any good, so I’m going to give it to you straight.  I’m having a hard time right now.  I suspect it has to do with all the celebrating that’s been going on around here.  I know that sounds like crazy talk, but I promise that it’s not.  I tend to feel the absence of Samuel’s presence the most during times of celebration.  With all four of our birthday’s, our wedding anniversary, & Easter falling within six weeks of each other, it’s always a little bit of a challenge for me.  But let’s face it, I’m not new to this program.  Samuel moved in with Jesus almost 5 years ago, so I figured I had this grief thing down to a science.

Apparently not.

I had forgotten that grief isn’t something that ever leaves you, but instead just goes into remission until something triggers its release.  For me, just recently, that trigger was Piper turning three.  Not because I’m sad she’s growing up, but because she’s now the very age that Henry was when I was pregnant with Samuel, when he was born, and when he passed away.

When Henry was was three, he couldn’t wait for his baby brother to be born.  When he was three, he held him in his arms and told him all the things they’d do together.  When he was three, I had to tell him that his brother wasn’t coming home with us again.  When he was three he had to say goodbye to his brother.

It feels a little like a cruel and unusual punishment to have to relive it all again, but I’ll do it because I know the beauty that God will make from it.  I know that He will walk with me now, just as He has before, and that in time He will once again fill my heart with hope & light.

In the meantime, I’m going to take it easy so I can follow His lead.  I’m going to give myself space and time to walk this part of my journey.  I’m going to talk about my grief with a licensed counselor.  And, I’m going live in the moment so that the past can’t swallow me up.

Now then, stand still and see this great thing the LORD is about to do before your eyes! 1 Samuel 12:16