Thursday, October 11, 2012


It was a Thursday morning.  I dressed Kelsie in a pair of blue jeans with pink embroidered hearts on the hiney and a cream colored long sleeve shirt.  Her feet had grown into a cute pair of shoes so I slid those on hoping that they didn't end up lost like all her socks.  I talked to her and she cooed back.  I got ready that morning with her on my hip.  I laughed at her expressions and I complained.  I remember it was difficult trying to get things done.  It was a Thursday morning.   I kissed my little girl goodbye for the last time oblivious of the days events that would forever change me, my husband, my son, our family and our friends

It was a Thursday night.  I walked out of the hospital, hand in hand with Jeff.  Kelsie was gone, just like that, gone.  I left the hospital so confused, and honestly quite oblivious to what had truly happened.  Questions of why swarmed my mind.  .  What ifs consumed me.  "What in the hell is going on" rolled from my tongue.  I didn't know, I couldn't know.  This hurt is beyond what the human soul is capable of feeling.  Desperation filled my soul, mourning began.

Today is that same Thursday almost a year later.  The hurt is still incomprehensible.  Our little girl's room has had no life for a year.  It has set dark and dormant.  Sometimes I just pass by, sometimes I stop, I place the palm of my hand on her door, and tears stream as I long for her cry.  This Thursday, I just passed by.  I passed by and this is my normal.  Memories of her play in my mind as I bounce from one task to the other.  Her face is still so vivid, even through the foggy vision that tears cause.   Today, for me, heaven is closer.  This Thursday I ache for and groan for my home.  I long to see my Savior and I just know that He will be the one to reunite me with my daughter.

This Thursday, the weight of my empty arms is still so very heavy.  This Thursday morning I didn't have little shoes to put on and chubby thighs wrapped around my hips.  I didn't have little fingers to kiss or a dirty diaper to change.  This morning I awoke and I had this hymn humming from between my tear stained lips.  This is My Savior and His faithful love, carrying me through just like he did that Thursday a year ago, today, and all the Thursday's of tomorrow.  With so many questions, doubts, insecurities, and don't knows that flood my thing is true...His blessed assurance.  He's mine, even when I doubt, even when I am angry, even when I am quiet.  He is mine through the tears, through the laughter, through the seasons on mourning that truly never really end.  He is mine and I am His.

Bless├Ęd assurance, Jesus is mine!
O what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior, all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior, all the day long.

Perfect submission, perfect delight,
Visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angels descending bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.

Perfect submission, all is at rest
I in my Savior am happy and blest,
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with His goodness, lost in His love.

Abba! Father! Come soon, please!

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