Morning

It was still dark when the alarm went off.  The cloud lay thick around me and it was hard to push myself up towards the day.  I couldn't, wouldn't lift my face ...the heaviness made me so angry.  I averted my eyes so I didn't have to see Him, look at Him.  The missing is heavy today.  My intellect knows one thing, my heart another.  This morning I cannot reconcile how a loving God would take Phoebe from me.  My friends remind me of the extraordinary graces I have been blessed with.  I know.  And how I wish the rescue they offer me would stay fixed, would not let me fall again ...away from her ...away from Him.  Why this heaviness? If I were alone, I would scream loud and long ...I would smash, tear, run ...as far away as I could.  But I am here, thankfully, with other lovelies looking on, wanting and needing me, needing our family to be whole, to be new, fresh in a way we have never been. 
I make my way, waking those who need waking, stumble towards the kitchen and begin the routine of our day. Heavy ...the day feels heavy.  I want to go wake Phoebe, want to get her week going, help her find her missing pants, socks.  I miss those errands, the little tasks I would do for her to get her out the door.  But while I see the missing of her ...who else am I missing?.  I can brood in the loss, the emptiness her absence brings.  And it is deep.  Or, I can see, experience the three living milling about, beginning their days.  Am I so lost in sadness ...that I offer them only my emptiness?  While I lament the abandonment ...do I offer them a hollow wife, an absent mother?  I go about the tasks, the practical motion of setting them off ...but what worth is that if it is empty of heart?  The very thing that makes me angry, sad, confused ...the loss of my daughter ...is indeed what I am offering them ...unless...I lift my faith, raise it towards Heaven.  I look up, I will look for Him now, toward Him.  I will choose Him once again, for today.  As if fitting glasses to weak eyes, I begin to see something more clearly.  He, my Heavenly father, adjusts my sight. My vision changes.   I see now, the swing of ponytails through my kitchen.  I make the hot chocolate to keep warm at bus stops.  I cover books so teachers won't "scream" (allegedly, though I doubt it!) at them.  I make tea.  I am in the midst of them, these two lovelies, their bustling, giggling ...complaining.  And there it is, the settling of blue as the day begins to lighten.  Outside, the snow, the enormous pine tree, the pink pastel of the low sky ...all shrouded in blue ...that color of Heaven.  "Look outside girls!" I say.  They come and stand by me ...and we are quiet ...her mother, and the two sisters right behind her in our line-up.  My smile is bittersweet ...but their smiles are free, wide ...knowing.  The color of Heaven is blue ...and we all see it, know it.  Yes, Phoebe is here.  God let's me know ...let's this extraordinarily impatient momma know that my Phoebe, His Phoebe is here, right in the mix. 
I pray for the eyes of Heaven.  I pray for a heart that always ascends to God ...that I may follow His ways, His commands.  I pray that for today I will give thanks in all I do ...and that I will see Him in the living, the swinging of the ponytails, the bouncing of the curls.  I pray my heart will empty so He may fill it with His grace.  And I pray, that one day ...when my time comes, that Phoebe will be right there waiting ...and that then ...the missing will end.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.