aftermath

This picture was taken almost a week after Sarah died, we were at a family Christmas dinner. I was so weak from all the trauma that I laid down a lot, not necessarily to sleep but to rest, ... to heal... to cry.... to breath. There's this white blanket that one of our dear friends gave to Sarah when I delivered her. I had that blanket with her everywhere... it was soft and she loved it. After she died, I carried that thing around everywhere. If you were at the visitation or the funeral, you saw me with that blanket on my arm. Her smell stayed on it only a couple days. I had this lotion that I used on her, that I would put on it, to make it smell like her again. I remember thinking it was impossible to live anymore. I had this thought process from the beginning that if Sarah wanted to come back to me, she wouldn't, why would she? She is standing at the feet of Jesus. She is like an angel. Josh's Uncle Doug wrote a beautiful obituary saying that "God saw fit to spare her the heartaches of this world" As a parent, you pray for the day your children receive salvation, because that means everything, but I don't have to worry about Sarah, she is SAFE. She is locked in His arms and He has no intentions of letting her go. If we all could only understand that about salvation... it's a promise... John 10:29, "My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the My hand."
Christmas was extremely hard that week. The day Christmas was over, I tore my decorations down within 30 min. and that's pretty short cause I have a lot of decorations. I found the only thing I could reflect on was the simple fact that Jesus was born and my Sarah is with Him now, thanks to our Comforter. Simple.... the way it's supposed to be. To celebrate the coming of our Savior, and that one day we will all be together, with Him.
Christmas has gotten easier but still stirs a lot of anxiety, but again, we must press on through it.
As long as I keep the focus on what it's supposed to be, about Jesus, then Christmas is a joy. Every anniversary of my little girls death will always have this ache in my heart, as it should be. Jesus does not want me to forget that pain, cause it's made me who I am today. and I thank God for allowing me to be a part of her ministry, and it will only prevail if I spread it.