Heavy and Hopeful Hearts

I'm sitting the in driveway right now, watching my 3 little men race their cars around and around. Every once in a while, they will stop to switch vehicles. It's a precious and comforting ending to one of the hardest days our family has had. Today, we said goodbye to our sweet Little Miss.

People often ask how we deal with watching our little ones leave our home to go back to be with their families. This is our first experience having a child leave our home, so I wanted to be sure to write about it. Her leaving has left our hearts heavy. There is a piece missing in our family. I imagine how we feel is like going to hear an orchestra play, only to find out that the flute section is missing. The music may still sound beautiful, but there is something noticeably absent.

When I tried to picture what this day would look like, I pictured lots of crying. I have most definitely cried, but it hasn't been the torrent I expected. Maybe it's because we knew this day was coming. Maybe it's because I've cried so much over the last few weeks. Maybe it's because we're still a little numb. I don't know. I do know that God is still good, He has a plan, and that we don't regret loving our little girl. I would do it all over again.

In the hours since we gave our last kisses, I already miss the sound of her giggles and coos. I catch myself looking for her rolling around on the playroom rug. It's the little things that get to me most- the last bottle in the dishwasher, pink things still scattered around the house, sounds that remind me of her. I suppose when you love deeply, you grieve deeply.

It's very true that the world doesn't stop when you're hurting. That has really irked me in the past. Now, though, I'm glad. My big boys have told me they're sad and miss their sister, but they don't let those feelings keep them from riding their bikes, saying "I love you," or devouring their dinner. Sweet moments of being a wife and mom are still sweet. I wish so much that she could be here to star in and share those moments, but I have to trust that God's plan for her is bigger, sweeter, and more perfect than the ones I would make for her. That hope (even when I don't really feel it), is what keeps us going. It's what gives us strength and peace to keep loving on hurting kids and making a safe home for them. It's what enables us to lay our family on the altar. We know that His ways are higher and better than ours.