Today you had a long seizure right before nap time that made you so tired you were asleep in my bed even before I laid the other kids down. I climbed in next to you anyway- I just wanted to be close to you. I held your little hand.
Like so many times before, I rested next to you and stroked your hair. My heart loved and ached, and my eyes were relieved to release a few tears that had been resting there all day. As I sighed over your raccoon eyes and I stroked your hair, I wondered where on that beautiful head they would cut should they have to do surgery. My spirit prayed fervently to the God who loves us both.
We laid there in the sunshine, you snored peacefully as I wrestled with my worries. The sun shone brightly even through the blinds, and soon I found myself relaxing into the quiet and warmth of the bed.
Aggie heading to Cleveland Clinic |
We have darkness to go through yet, my dear child. I am sure we will often hold hands through the darkness as we are doing now. I suspect we will get separated for some of it. I know we will be carried through all of it by Him who loves us both, the One who has been there before.
But for this sweet moment, we rest on our pillows that smell like home.
I wonder, after the days of valleys and darkness, will we be given moments like this again? Will we rest together, hold hands, and enjoy the warmth of each others love on pillows that smell like Home? Will we give goodnight kisses, smile, say I love you for the millionth time, in that Other place? Perhaps then the shadows of the valley will be distant memories. Perhaps the sun will be the Light of Christ, the light that chased away our fears and pain, and our “I love yous” will finally be sweet and pure and simple.
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