"Abba"

Awe, to kiss your skin again.  To feel your tiny fingers mingled in with mine.  To rub the top of your head.  To hold your feet in the palm of hands.  To laugh with you, to smile with you.  To have a room full of life, a house full of toys.  I weep when I see this picture.  I can feel your skin, I can smell your scent, I am right there, your body fits perfect in my loving hands.  I am just that close and to know you are so far away is far more than just a heartache it's a deep longing, a missing that is unavoidable a life of sorrow and a prayer for joy in the morning. 

A mother's brokenness written across a computer screen is what I am now.  Not defined by that, but it is a part me, a very deep and confusing part of who I am.  I wake up praying and I lay my head down at night praying.  Not always knowing what I am saying, what to say, and yes sometimes not even knowing if it is going to make any difference at all.  Tonight in the quiet I just sat still.  I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't even call out "Abba" my heart is just that broken.  I know He promises to stay close to the broken hearted and I can see in my life the perfect word picture of this but "Abba" is just as far as I feel my daughter is this Monday night.  In the quiet I long for noise, an annoying toy, a scream, a cry, a laugh, but I know that in this season it is silence, a season of quiet. Peace? Yes, peace.  How could there be peace in the midst of such heartache, how in the deep longing, in the confusion is there peace.   "Abba"

Abba, please...