and it's been a whole year since we left our yellow house,
and our life
packed it all up and stepped out into the complete and open unknown.
it's been a whole year and a little bit more and still, in a sunny room in the early hours of this morning, she grieves.
and it takes me back to that night, the one 12 months and 9 days ago and as i hold her close, i remind her of where her tears are kept until He can wipe them all away...
all three had been tucked in and prayed over. lights had been turned out and night-lights had been switched on. lullabies had been sung and kisses pressed against sleepy-sweet skin.
i walked out of the last room and headed up the stairs.
an hour later, she was still whimpering, still trying not to cry...
tony came near and asked me to go in and talk with her..
.she needed me.
i climbed onto her bed, the one cocooned under another and brought my face close to hers.
mama, what's wrong with me?
i looked down at my girl, the one who would be one whole hand in 3 short days and i felt it, the bracing against the question...
mama, what is wrong with my heart? why is it hurting?
olivia climbed up too, curled herself into my lap, reached out her hand to stroke lyla's face like i was. unsure of the why but knowing that comfort was needed.
oh baby...you heart is hurting because you miss home. your heart misses your friends and your pink and orange and brown room and everything that felt familiar.
the wail that followed the explanation was unexpected, but needed. she needed to get the feelings out.
so we held her, olivia and i. we held her and wiped her tears and let her cry and cry and cry...
she looked into my eyes, several long moments later...like she did the first time i held her in my arms. when she blinked up at me, unfazed by the bright hospital lights that greeted her entrance. that first moment when she experienced her first separation...
and i knew, He wanted me to speak words of life into her.
and so i grasped at the only ones my mind held ready,
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears
in Your bottle. are they not in Your book?
and her eyes, the ones i have loved since the moment i first gazed into them, grew big and full of wonder,
is it a big bottle?
she placed her ear over my heart, relaxing to the cadence of a steady beat that whispers out a rhythm of love for her as i spoke the words over her sleepy head...words that every hurting heart desperately needs to hear,
the Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
and her eyelids grew heavy and olivia sagged in my arms and i brought blankets up around chins and kissed noses and rested my hands on curled backs and prayed.
thankful that childish tears and pain are so easily soothed by a tender word, a soft kiss and gentle back-rub. thankful that we still have each other, that comfort is still sought and so easily given. thankful for hearts that love strong and deep.
and i wonder why and when does pain become too big and too much to be soothed by the tender word from a loving God. when did i lose that child-like trust that i can take all of my hurts to the Creator of the world He placed me in and believe and know that He would take care of it...of me?
so, i turn my ear to find His heartbeat. the Heart that loved me enough to stop beating for three days so that mine could beat full for Him...