Reminders

Everything seems to be a reminder of Norah being absent. I wake up this morning and wish I was woken up in the middle of the night by the cries of my child. I wish today, as Jason is at work, that I could feed, nap, and cuddle with her. I wish I could see her mannerisms and her little personality quirks. I feel so robbed; my dreams of her are robbed. The wave of grief that seems to be coming now, is missing who Norah is, who she would have been here on this earth, and I miss her. I miss the little girl I didn't have the chance to get to know better. I miss being her mom and my heart aches with loss.

Norah was 4 lbs 8 oz. She had bright red hair. She was long and skinny, with long and skinny toes and fingers. She had full lips and she was beauty. She was rambunctious in my tummy, kicking and moving around a lot. She especially loved when I ate or sat down to rest. She liked when I played music and sang. My favorite nickname for her was/is Nories. Every moment of her life on this earth was spent with me, in my tummy. She knew me and I knew her. I think she is lively, brave, passionate, and full of life. What's left of her body remains here on this earth, but her soul, spirit, and new body are in heaven now, in another dimension, where I can't hold her yet.

There is something in my heart that says hope is worth fighting for and despair is worth fighting. I no longer pour my energy into despair traps that lead to powerlessness and hopelessness. I pour myself into hope. I pour myself into what receives me fully. I pour myself into my future reward and the promise yet to come. I see the snares and traps on my path and they are fully exposed. Despair and hopelessness are not from God. Glory to glory is from God. Abundance and life is from God. And, He takes the first fruits of my suffering and carves out a deep well inside of me, so deep that it touches my core, making room for joy, future plans, beauty, promises, and fullness.

The mystery of God's unfolding plan for my life is still being revealed. He has not spared me from obstacles or heartache or pain. He has allowed things to happen and for me to fully be submerged in this painful and beautiful thing called life. The part that feels the most unsettling to me at this moment is: it wasn't meant to be this way. How do I live with the ideals of heaven and its perfection in the brokenness of this world? I have yet to find the answer to that question and I sit in the tension, I sit in the tension of holding onto the promises with hope in one hand and faith in the other, and recognizing the reality that this world and its brokenness sucks sometimes.

God is here, even though I can't tangibly see him or feel him right now. I hear him and I know him and what he tells me today. He will continue to lead me on the path of life.