𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓳𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼. Consider a newborn baby. The joy that accompanies the arrival after a labor that was so burdened with pain. The sweet tender moments that are a healing balm to a hurting body. Often, we hear people say, “you will forget all the pain the moment you lay eyes on your baby”’. That is true the breathtaking beauty does cause the mind to forget the pain. Not forever, but at least for a while.
I have found that the raising of our children is the same. We have a sadness that they are growing so quickly, yet a joy at all they learn to do. We cheer when they take their first steps and practice with them to say their first mama or dada. We rejoice when they sleep through the night. Each milestone is celebrated and yet mourned at the same time. The first day of school, riding a bike, losing a tooth, getting a driver’s licenses, and graduating from high school are all events we look forward to.
Then they enter adulthood and we anxiously watch as they get their first job, find a spouse, deliver a grandbaby. We pray over them, begging God to protect them. We ask for him to draw their lives close to him. We ask him to direct their steps and help them live in his perfect will. We thank him for every day they are in our lives. We live in a spirit of gratefulness, realizing that each day is precious and each moment a blessing. Somehow life moves so quickly. The years where we thought things would always be one way, quickly move on and change to something else. 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭.
Looking over Millie’s life with this perspective brings me both great joys and deep sorrows. Her delivery was filled with fear and trembling, but quickly replaced with a tremendous JOY as I held that sweet little girl for the first time on the outside of my body. I knew her after our 9 months together yet meeting her face to face filled my heart to overflowing. Remembering her baby laugh, her soft skin, and fuzzy head all bring a longing to rock my precious baby again. The joyous smile, sweet pudgy hands, and little peapod toes are all sweet memories of the past.
The second year of her life brought great achievements of walking, talking, playing, all part of the toddler life. I remember a shirt that she wore saying “mommy’s bestie” that was such an accurate description. Her hair grew a little and formed some golden curls. She learned to chase Little Man, wrapped her big siblings around her finger, and still she loved to rock with momma. She enjoyed our camping trips and took a trip to Walt Disney World in Orlando.
Her third year of life she became wise to the ways of the world. She could sing along at church but rarely sat still for the service. She loved being outside in the swing that daddy hung from our sycamore tree. She loved her nieces, both playing with the older and holding the new baby one. She adored her siblings, loved the farm animals, and often asked daddy to ‘hold me’. She went to big places getting to see both the Painted Desert and the Grand Canyon, but she was not overly impressed by either.
𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷. This was where she first was introduced to sleepovers, yet they were always in a hospital bed. She quickly learned that adhesive remover was cold but helps to remove your bandages. She realized that she could hold still for shots but still needed to yell in fear. She distinctly knew that the things that caused her great pain were also some of her greatest blessings… her Broviac while sewn into her chest kept her from continual needle pokes. Her G-tube, a hole placed into her stomach allowed her to take the dreaded medicine without fear of the taste. Her nurses that loved her so yet had to do so many painful things to her. Millie knew that life was intermixed with sorrow and blessings often at the same time.
The ending of her life again held so much sorrow, so much pain both physically for her and emotionally for all of us. Even now her dad and I physically just HURT missing her. It is an ache that does not dim, a pain in our hearts, and a lump in our throats. Her siblings miss her so much they often fear speaking her name lest they break down and cry.
Tonight, another great joy arrived at our house. Our littlest granddaughter arrived wearing Millie’s coat from last Christmas. Little Man exclaimed how glad he was to see her wear it. He said, “That makes me so happy!” In turn, it makes my heart happy to know that Millie’s things are bringing joy to others. Even in the sorrow of missing her, the joy of her memory is such a blessing. Watching our sweet granddaughter run, play and joke brings the JOY of a young child back into our home. My eyes briefly filled with tears remembering our girl, but my heart swelled with JOY knowing there is still life to be lived here.
𝐻𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒶𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈.
Philippians 1:3-11
3 I thank my God upon every remembrance of you (𝓜𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓮),
4 Always in every prayer of mine for you all making request with 𝓳𝓸𝔂,
5 For your fellowship in the gospel from the first day (𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 11, 2016) until now (𝓞𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 27, 2020);
6 Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ (𝓙𝓾𝓵𝔂 8, 2020 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓜𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓳𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙𝓮𝓼𝓾𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷):
𝓐𝓜𝓔𝓝
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