Sweet Mornings

"Good morning, Siennalee!" I come into the room and rush right over to hug the little person standing in her crib, looking out the window by holding the curtain back gingerly.

I begin turning off the nightlight and noisemaker, listening to her jabber about the trash can outside. "Good morning!" I prompt again.

"Good morning, Mommie!" She smiles back at me.

"Did you have good dreams last night?" I ask her, getting her clothes out of the drawer.

"Yes, I had good dweams."

"What did you dream about?" Now we're changing diaper and getting her dressed. This is a favorite question of mine which, until today, has never been answered directly.

"Ummmm... I dweam about Moo. And I dweam about Sippy. And I dweam about Bee-yar..." These are all her bedmates, along with her blankets.

Such a sweet start to our morning.

Mending

This week marks nearly a month since we lost our baby. It's been a rather difficult month for me. I continue to heal and get stronger, and as I do I try to push myself out to regain some of the ground that feels like it was lost in grief. I've leaned a lot on family and friends, trusting them to turn a blind eye to any shortness or strangeness on my part, and they've made me feel very safe and loved and normal. And in those moments of brokenness which continue to surface every so often, I learn a new level of trusting on God instead of myself.

Indeed, we felt within ourselves we had received the [very] sentence of death, but that was to keep us from trusting in and depending on ourselves instead of on God Who raises the dead.

[For it is He] Who rescued and saved us from such a perilous death, and He will still rescue and save us; in and on Him we have set our hope (our joyful and confident expectation) that He will again deliver us [from danger and destruction and draw us to Himself]...

II Corinthians 1:9,10

For when I finally come to the end of myself; my own ability to see, understand, hang on and go on, He is there.