Won't Do

Yesterday morning I woke up while the house was still dark and quiet. I felt giddy, almost like Christmas morning, in anticipation of seeing the girls. Not that I don't usually love seeing those faces every morning, but here lately the all night gymnastics leave me a little less than chipper right out of the gate. I carefully craned my neck around Joe's peacefully sleeping body and saw 6:00 on the dial, so I tried to settle back in next to his warmth for a little more sleep. After all, it would be a busy day.

It just wouldn't do.

I slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. Made a cup of tea and sat in one my favorite spots that hardly ever has company these days. The dark green chair in the deep red room Joe painted for me right after we moved in. One of my most favorite pictures of all time sitting beside me, the one where all of us crowded my bed and officially became a family of four on an early Saturday morning.

I watched the birds on the dewy front yard for a while and then decided in atypical rush-around Sunday morning fashion I'd make orange cinnamon rolls and a big fruit salad. I was halfway through chopping the fruit when I heard Hope calling for me. Some kind of dream had awoken her and she was crying a bit, so I scooped up her footy pajamed body and we went to cuddle on the couch.

Tears turned to giggles as we finished making breakfast. She went to get Daddy up and I went to get Maddie. The four of us then crowded the breakfast table. Something about the ordinary morning made me realize it was such a gift. Extraordinary even.

Thoughts of this stayed with me for a while before we resumed our scrambling around, throwing pink and brown dresses over little heads, and trying to make it to church on time after losing an hour.

Whew... we made it.

As is expected, Maddie went straight to her room to find her favorite faces and this particular perfectly sized baby doll. Hope came to worship with us until the service grew more quiet and she excitedly went off to find her friend Sophia and that day's songs and crafts.

Then I lost it.

Some of you may know that our pastor's teenage son went to be with Jesus this past summer just before he was to enroll as a freshman in college. During this time his family has been an inspiration in showing us the power of having a relationship, not just a religion. Sure, they have been strong. They have helped others even in their grief. They have helped us understand the realities of Heaven and the promise that awaits us at the end of this life's tears and struggles. Some of the most real and true relationships with Jesus Christ that I have probably ever seen.

But they have also been just that.

Real.

Yesterday our pastor tried to get up and share, but he couldn't. The words failed him. I watched as men came from all corners of the church to rally around him.

I remembered the footy feet running down the stairs that morning. The huge grin when Maddie saw me come through the door and the, "Here's me, Mommy!" that followed. The orange cream icing tucked into the corners of mouths as they told us all kinds of things around that worn oak table.

Though there were few dry eyes in the house, I sobbed so hard the sweet woman behind me dug for a Kleenex and gave me a warm smile. The same one she had offered as she watched Hope point to the cross and in an exaggerated whisper tell us, "That's what Jesus died on to give up all our sins!"

All of this combined with the season we're in makes me wonder at what hope there is if not this? To endure something like the loss of your child without it, I cannot even begin to imagine. In fact, the word loss isn't exactly fitting. For there is a reunion coming, one so amazing and grand and beautiful that no eye has seen and no mind can comprehend it. Oh for the things that are being prepared, for the joy that will one day be more than restored... even for the comfort that is offered while we press on through the rest of this life's purpose, through both its beauty and heartache.

To settle back in and miss out on that?

Too extraordinary. It simply just won't do.
~Katrina