My bags are packed and itty, bitty clothes have that oh so sweet smell of baby detergent. Red, yellow, green, blue, and purple... my toes are painted like a rainbow to remind me of the biggest sister in this special hour that fast approaches. Three and a half more days and I will be staring into the tiny, squished up face of a miracle. My little miracle. Me- who thought that miracles were dead.
And this will be my third miracle in 18 months. Life from death.
In my yard another life from death drips early morning dew. Delicate petals of pink and yellow like miniature bouquets swirl around the butterfly bush. A gift from the first anniversary of Makiah's heaven day. This sweet plant withered away to nothing last winter. Just on a whim I buried the root. Down deep under heavy, dark earth. And left it there through the cold of grey winter days. Forgotten and covered by pine straw.
It caught my eye on the way to church Sunday morning. Big lush leaves and delicate bouquets in full bloom seemed to grab me. It had lived. Survived the bleak season of winter. Stronger and more vibrant than before. Enticing butterflies to dine near my back door.
As we stood and sang the lyrics "grace like rain falls down on me," I was picturing the butterfly bush. And the rain of grace that has fallen down on my heart. Dead and buried under deep dark earth in a nearby cemetery two years ago this October. I cannot deny the colorful pairs of eyes- one blue set and one green- that look deep in my soul and greet me with delighted jumping and gleeful calls of "mouwnin" (aka "morning) and "Mommy! Mommy!" early each day when I come to their room to rescue them from the cribs.
And in a few days another bouquet will join them. The grace rains down. And deep in the earth, the root has sprouted signs of life when I was not looking. And suddenly, miracoulously there is color and vibrance and life from the depths of death so dark.
And the sadness of Makiah's approaching heaven day is not quite so overwhelming. And I held her in my dreams last night. A rare gift for me. Bouncing pigtails and racing feet- she squeeled for mommy as we ran into each others arms. Oh the joy! Of what has been. Of what is... in my dreams. And of what will be again... one day.
In less than one hundred hours I will hold her newest sister in my arms with eyes wide open. Oh the joy! And the mystery. Of the miracle. And grace like rain. That brings new life.
And this will be my third miracle in 18 months. Life from death.
In my yard another life from death drips early morning dew. Delicate petals of pink and yellow like miniature bouquets swirl around the butterfly bush. A gift from the first anniversary of Makiah's heaven day. This sweet plant withered away to nothing last winter. Just on a whim I buried the root. Down deep under heavy, dark earth. And left it there through the cold of grey winter days. Forgotten and covered by pine straw.
It caught my eye on the way to church Sunday morning. Big lush leaves and delicate bouquets in full bloom seemed to grab me. It had lived. Survived the bleak season of winter. Stronger and more vibrant than before. Enticing butterflies to dine near my back door.
As we stood and sang the lyrics "grace like rain falls down on me," I was picturing the butterfly bush. And the rain of grace that has fallen down on my heart. Dead and buried under deep dark earth in a nearby cemetery two years ago this October. I cannot deny the colorful pairs of eyes- one blue set and one green- that look deep in my soul and greet me with delighted jumping and gleeful calls of "mouwnin" (aka "morning) and "Mommy! Mommy!" early each day when I come to their room to rescue them from the cribs.
And in a few days another bouquet will join them. The grace rains down. And deep in the earth, the root has sprouted signs of life when I was not looking. And suddenly, miracoulously there is color and vibrance and life from the depths of death so dark.
And the sadness of Makiah's approaching heaven day is not quite so overwhelming. And I held her in my dreams last night. A rare gift for me. Bouncing pigtails and racing feet- she squeeled for mommy as we ran into each others arms. Oh the joy! Of what has been. Of what is... in my dreams. And of what will be again... one day.
In less than one hundred hours I will hold her newest sister in my arms with eyes wide open. Oh the joy! And the mystery. Of the miracle. And grace like rain. That brings new life.
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| Thank you Mrs. Sandy and Aubrey! |
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