So, it’s been 21 weeks with no child. I am finally at my wits end and so incredibly lonely without her.  I miss every inch of 5’2″ frame (if she really is that tall!)Trying to describe the sadness I feel can only be described as mourning.  I mourn for her hourly almost.  I tried putting her photos back out and while I love seeing her smiling face I am left with the reality, that is all I do have left.  Her photos.  I know in all honesty, with her biological father’s family’s history, December 18, 2014 is probably the last day I’ll ever hug her and February 4, 2015 is probably the last time I’ll see her and speak to her in person.  Not by my choice.  By hers.  As some of the family members on his side haven’t spoken in 20 years.

I wonder what, in the mind of an almost 20 year old, makes you never want to speak to your parent.  I was her age once, and as much as my parents got on my nerves, as much as I believed my parents were “wrong” or “misguided” or how I thought they had twisted or damaged me and my delicate psyche, I can NOT imagine my life without them.  They helped shaped who I am today – warts and all!

So, I am sitting daily wondering, and I know I should not think about it anymore, but I have NO IDEA how to stop thinking about her.  I have other things – work, exercise, Bible study, Sunday school with my four year olds, neighbors, friends…to fill my time, but nothing takes her place.

So, I mourn.  I cry.  I think.  I mourn some more.  I cry.  I think some more.  And I wonder, who understands this pain?  And I read something the other day – it said if you are married and your spouse dies, you are widow or widower – if you are a child and your parent dies – you are an orphan.  What do you call a parent who has lost a child?  Now, mind you, she is not dead, she is most definitely alive, she just choses to pretend I do not exist.  I mourn the loss of what was, what we would be living now, and my future with her.  I understand I must be patient, and the entire situation is in God’s hands.  But for the moment, I want immediate result and for this pain to end.

Then, yesterday i was on the bike at the gym and the song “Held” by Natalie Grant came on my iPod.  God’s little message to me.  Granted the song is about a mother who has lost her infant child, but the message fit:

“…to think that providence would take a child from his mother while she prays is appalling…who told us we’d be rescued…what has changed and why should we be saved from this nightmare…we’re asking why this happens…to us who have died to live…it isnt fair….this hand is bitterness, we want to taste it and let the hatred numb our sorrows, the wise hand opens slowly to the lilies of the valley and tomorrow.  If hope is born of suffering if this is only the begining, can we not wait for one hour watching for our savior…..

This is what it means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive, this is what it is to be loved and to know the promise was when everything fell we’d be held….”

Can you say…wow!  The promise isn’t my suffering will end, or it will be easy, or I’ll forget what I’m going through….the promise is I am held in my suffering, I’m loved and God is with me every moment…never does He leave my side…2 Corinthians 1:3-5 tells us …for just as the sufferings of Christ are ours, in abundance, so also is our comfort.

I may mourn for Olivia until i take my last breath, but I can be comforted by knowing Christ is with me.  I am promised…I am held…

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