Underserved Privlege

How has it already been almost one year? It feels like yesterday in so many ways. Getting that phone call before the sun had time to rise. Trying to control my emotions so as to focus on staying between those blurry lines painted on the highway. Busting through those squeaky double doors as the nurses move aside so I could make my way to Sophia's bed. To be in utter belief and shock that's it's over. The fight is over. Had we lost? Had we won? Depends. Depends on how I wanted to look at it.

When Melody died one year before Sophia, she was in my arms half a mile from the hospital. I didn't know, or maybe refused to believe that she died before running through the front doors of that hospital, so they generously said they would take care of the burial since she was pronounced dead in their ER. I remember the intense feelings all too well of her being carried in a box on the shoulder of a stranger as he tapped her box to make music while he hummed through the cemetery looking for a spot he thought was vacant. I walked close behind as my eyes wandered over to the other graves. So much voodoo paraphernalia on them. "what is this place?" I thought to myself. My next door neighbor is a witch doctor, so I've seen a lot, yet this place had things I've never even seen before even living next door to the priest himself. It was trashy. It was dark. This was where they were going to bury my daughter? The gasp for air and the rush of blood all to my toes when another human skull was dug out while digging Melody's grave. The agony and the reality and the shock from it all came rushing back into my head as I waited for the papers declaring Sophia's passing. I couldn't go through that again. "Please not again, Lord." I stood outside Sophia's room where there were still 3 other kids fighting for their life, (luckily too young to realize her lifeless body in a bed a few feet away) as I called my parents to tell them the news. "She's gone" is all that I could mutter out.

After what seemed like forever waiting to get the death certificate, I got the news. This hospital was different than Melody's. There wasn't an option for them to bury her. Nor was there an option for a morgue from what I was told. So, I picked up my baby girl wrapped in a taped-up towel and laid her on the back seat of my car and refrained as best as my will power would let me to not use my rearview mirror for that 1.5 hour drive home. Her grave was being dug in my backyard as I caught myself swaying my sweet 6-month-old in my arms as I always did to put her to sleep. It was a natural reaction. My arms wouldn't stop. Disbelief and shock come first. Emotions and grief come after.

Sophia's surgery was only days away from getting a shunt put in for her Hydrocephalus before she got an infection from her Spina Bifida, got meningitis, and ended up septic. We were so close it seems. We could see the light at the end of the tunnel. The light, I thought, was best for her. The light I wanted. The light we prayed for. Earnestly. Everyday. Instead, she laid in a hospital bed hooked up to machines and had seizure after seizure as he body started to get tired day after day for 36 days. I realized that I needed to let go. It was time. I told her to go see Jesus and that it was time to go home. "Go see The Light that is best for you, sweet one. The true light. Go see the Light that was laid out for you before you were even born." And she did. She breathed her last breath in the wee hours of February 15th 2018. She won. She got the prize. She got it all. And through the tears and the heartbreak and the heaviness of it all, I smiled. I had peace. She won. My baby girl won. It's all how you look at it. Winning or losing that is. She got heaven. She got the crown. She got the golden roads and majestic mansions. She won the fight. Through human eyes it doesn't seem like that. But through the eyes of Jesus, I knew. And my mama heart could not be more content to know where she is now. To know she's happy and healthy. She walks, she talks, she sings, she dances. Life on earth would have forbid her of those things. Through Sophia and Melody, I'm reminded of the true Light. The one that really matters. The one worthy of everything. The one my heart desires to serve no matter what it costs. The light I want to seek day after day knowing it'll never burn out. It'll never lose its flame. The only light worth following. How dare me to think the light at the end of MY tunnel is better.

---------"therefore, since we have been made right in God's sight by faith, we have PEACE with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of UNDESERVED PRIVLEGE where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God's glory." Romans 5:1-2-------- Through losing a child, I've dealt numerous times with the trauma it brings. The anxiety every time one of my other girls gets a stuffy nose or has a fever. The "what-ifs" roll in and flood my mind. Trauma tries to steal my ability to let go and let God. It makes me want to grip the reins even tighter. It has made it hard to surrender the lives of my children to God. I want control…. because when the worst of the worst has already happened, how do I know it isn't just right around the corner again? Waiting to devour me. Waiting to rip me apart all over again. If I hold the reins, I'd be ready… So I thought.

Anxiety. One of the devil's tactics to keep hold of us. One of the ways he watches and grins as I struggle to give the reins to the Lord in that area of life. You see, God has given me the responsibility to take care of His girls. HIS GIRLS. They are his. And I have been given the privilege and responsibility to raise them up until HE calls them home. When He is ready. Even if I grasp those reins with every ounce of strength I've got, He still is in control. "Letting go" is something He's been walking me through for quite a while now. Learning to trust. It's an embarrassment that I don't trust him like I should with my girls. I know my anxiety is an insult to him and it stabs me deep. Lacking trust means lacking faith. That's hard to admit. But I know He is a God of grace and mercy and will continue to walk through life holding my hand, teaching me, and most importantly, loving me no matter what. I know He gave us mothers that profound instinct of protecting our flock and maybe deep down as he watches us jump up to check the heartbeat of our newborns all hours of the night he sees it as love not distrust. Unconditional love for His children, for our children. Maybe just maybe He gives a little grace during those moments. He knows he's the one truly holding the reins. He's just waiting for his daughter to accept that. Not in some parts of life, but every part. They're his kids. Not mine. He just decided to lavish me until my cup ran over with blessings of being their mama on this earth.

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can anyone of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" - Matthew(6:26-27) It truly is a joy to serve God. Even through the hard times. It is an honor that we must never take for granted. My prayer is that you and I follow Him wholeheartedly through whatever life brings. Whatever season you're in, seek the light and follow it with your whole heart. It's always worth it. Even in the storms. And for that, we can rejoice. "If we could only look upon a difficult crisis as an occasion of bringing out, on our behalf, the sufficiency of divine grace, it would enable us to preserve the balance of our souls and to glorify God, even in the deepest waters." - C.H. Machintosh-------------------------------------- Romans 8:6 "So letting your sinful nature control your mind leads to death. But letting the Spirit control your mind leads to LIFE and PEACE." "and since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God's glory. BUT if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering. Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later."Romans 8:17-18

Peace comes from faith in Him. Peace comes from handing over the reins. Follow that light. Follow The Light.