I’m apprehensive about facing the calendar this week. Not like I can avoid it. But this is the week our little girl was due.
I want to give her memory the honor it deserves.
I have no greater joy than to know that when she opened her eyes for the first time, she saw the face of Christ. She never knew sorrow or sin or crying. I am not sure if she ever knew pain, but I am confident that if she did, it was a light and momentary affliction. She only lived for about 11 weeks – in the womb… and that sounds pretty cozy to me. She is one lucky girl. We are the ones who are losing out! Our loss is her gain. She is forever and utterly tied to her Maker.
It is a mystery to me, this quiet Kingdom-building that the Lord is accomplishing through miscarriage and, yes, even abortion. Souls God created who are being shuffled secretly into Heaven, never stepping foot in our world. I imagine that their laughter and running fill the streets of Heaven, delighting the heart of the Lord. We have three of them there, rejoicing in the God of all things and whom we will meet not too long from now.
Oh my little ones, how much pain you have been spared. I cannot understand the secret things of the Lord, but when I get there, you will probably be teachers to me. Dear little one who was due this week, we love you. I wish my belly were fat with you now, but I know that the Lord has greater, more magnificent plans than I can fathom, and it doesn’t take long to realize that I wouldn’t want it any other way. You are just where you are supposed to be, and so are we. Thank you for reminding me that this world is not all there is. Thank you for all you have taught me simply by not being here. I can’t wait to hold you in Heaven!