If I really believe joy and sorrow are often found together, and if my heart is heavy with sorry, then why can't I lean toward the joy ...rather than the sorrow? Why can't I be lifted one way, rather than weighted the other.
I have the benefit of knowing what happens at Christmas ...really knowing. In my head and my heart, a keen sense, an awareness of the savior's birth resonates as the days approach that first night ...the night the angels sang on high to the shepherds. I have the benefit of preparing myself fully for that night. Though I am waiting, it is a season of waiting ...I am also walking the steady steps to Bethlehem ...becoming stronger with each step. Should I approach with tears of sorrow? My heart wants to approach and offer Phoebe ...with a full heart ...with joy and peace. That path isn't easy ...often it is fleeting. I think I've found it, then it is gone.
This morning when I woke, I didn't want to rise out of bed and begin my day. Always, the first thought comes crashing on me ...a whispered prayer. Generally, I hop out of bed ...have always done that. But today I lay there. What was I expecting? What am I expecting? For the joy to just "show up." Appear. No, I must search for it ...I must look at it. I must choose the joy over the sorrow. Seven joys still sleep and breath (often snore!) under my very own roof. The joy is here, right in my midst. My dear daughter is with God ...just where I always hoped she would be. And the sorrow is too ...but why not turn to the joy? And so I got up ...with a nod to Blessed Mother, a nod to St. Padre Pio ...two who love their Savior, and suffered for love of Him
I think about advent, repentance, reflecting, preparing, cleansing ...getting ready for the Savior. Shouldn't God be giving to me this season? Doesn't God owe me something for taking my daughter? These are questions I've wrestled. And the answers are coming. No, God already gave, is giving and will continue to give. Is my heart open wide? No, God does not owe me anything. He gave me His son, who suffered and died for me. And, He gave me the treasure of Phoebe for seventeen years. More than that, He's given me these others, my lovelies, who live and love with me. I am stunned by His generosity, really. I am searching for joy ...I am desperate for Phoebe ...but that will never satisfy. The only one who will satisfy ...the one I truly seek ...is the babe in the manger ...God made man.
I can hold that tight right now ...know it is true. I don't like it when it leaves me ...empty, wanting. But it turns.
The path started dark, gloomy and stark, but gives way now as others join their footsteps. All of us broken in some way, living in this fallen world. But all of us intent on the journey, willing to accept the will of God in our lives ...though we wrestle that too! We are hope-filled, trusting ...that we will find the treasure. That even amidst all the chaos, the challenge, the sorrow ...even amidst the loss of a child ...we will find the treasure in Him on Christmas.
Her silhouette looks back towards me ...the hint of a smile. I walk taller today, others are coming too. Her patience leads us onwards ...our first tabernacle of Christ ...leads us to the promise.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace, Amen.
Amen, girl, amen.
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