My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” – Psalm 73:26
I’ve been wanting to do an update for a while now, but life has been busy! It has been 9 weeks that Pippy has been running around Heaven. I picture her in a twirly dress (you know, the kind where little girls say “Watch my dress spin”), running around happily and laughing. I imagine she has tons of energy and the sweetest giggle and she is excited about everything. It gives me such joy to know that she is happy and without any pain or trouble and nothing to slow her down. Side note: It is incredibly hard to find the “right” picture to represent your child in Heaven, but here’s a cute one that makes me smile.
As for Tim and I, we are doing remarkably well. We are both back to work full time and the routine of life has picked back up. We stay pretty busy between work and church activities. We talk about Pippy often and how perfect her time with us was and how excited we are that one day we’ll be with her again.
Grief is a very strange thing though. It is sneaky and hits hard. It’s in the obvious things, like the songs I had hoped to sing to her or looking at the same pictures over and over again because there will never be any new ones. It’s in the things that you don’t think of until you’re going through it. It’s never knowing if today that comment of “You look so skinny!” will make me feel great and boost my self-confidence or just be a reminder that it’s easier to shed those pounds when you don’t have a baby you’re breastfeeding. And it’s in the completely irrational things too, which is when it hits hardest. You get blindsided when griefs sneaks into those moments that have nothing to do with anything. One minute everything is good, we’re smiling and laughing and life in that moment isn’t much different from anyone else. And suddenly you remember, it was real, she was real and she’s really gone. Grief is in our happy moments, our sad moments, our quiet and loving moments. It rudely forces it’s way into our daily lives and tries to break our hearts over and over again.
Thankfully, though, right alongside grief is joy, beautiful and sweet joy. She wraps us in her arms and whispers “Some day.” Some day we will be with our Pippy again. Some day we will get to share her pictures and stories and legacy with her little brothers and sisters. Some day our family will be complete again. Some day the visits from grief will be fewer and farther between and joy will always be there when he comes.
Until then, we say “Today.” Today we will thank God for her. Today we will celebrate her life. Today we will share her story and His glory with those around us. Today we will be amazed once again at how big her life was. Today, when the tears come, they will be tears of sweet mourning as we miss our baby. Today, when grief sneaks in, we will visit with him for a moment and then welcome joy.
Joy and Sorrow chapter VIII
Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.”
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.