101 seconds

Feb 16, 2016

(I wrote this post. Before I saw that picture above. An hour later I saw that picture, that said everything I did, in just a few short, glorious words.)

I'm driving down the mountain and I envision our yellow butterfly flying into the driver side window passed my face and out the passenger window. I'm so curious by this thought. I think to myself, look at the calendar Trish. Yes, it's the 16th.  6 months since I kissed that beautiful face. 6 months since I wailed and moaned and groaned and agonized in a way that I pray I will never again have to. A way I wish would never have to be uttered from any mothers mouth, womb, or heart, ever again. which inspires the work. But back to my loving daughter. My hilarious and gorgeous offering. Joislen is the first fruit of my womb. The first fruit of my union with Dwayne. And as a tither I understand a thing or two about first fruit, and the endless blessing in honoring this principle. Joislen wasn't a regular 10%. And I call her an offering because we dedicated her to the will of God long before her physical body passed. So, full disclosure, you heard it first, we didn't want our child to die. we did however trust whatever God had planned for her, we were willing to go anywhere if Jesus was driving. And He is. And she died. So yes she is not just 10%. She is the best parts of myself. And the best parts of the one I love. She is the handiwork of God. There's no sacrifice more valuable than your long awaited child. Ask God. Ask Abraham. Ask any bereaved parent to quantify the loss. It's unaffordable. It cost everything and then some. It is the closest thing to death a human can experience; the death of your child, without being touched by it first hand. And when this takes place inside of you? You are touched by it first hand. It is a dying alive. A death you have to live on from. And so now what.

It's been 6 months. Half a year. An eternity on earth. U thought a deployment day was long? The length of a day in the light of a lost child multiplies exponentially. I mean I literally experience days that felt like entire lifetimes. Grief can have a way of aging your soul and stripping your na├»vety. But for my girl. This is what I pray. Let's say I got 100 more 6 months before glory (50 years). I ask that each earth 6 months be one second in heaven. I only want Joislen to be away from me for 101 seconds in her eyes. The Drs take longer to hand the baby to mommy sometimes. So I want her to feel like we didn't miss a thing. She has no concept of this hopeless world, and this devastating thing called death. She's got no clue. And I'm so thankful for that Lord. So my prayer. On my first 1/2 year in her light. Is that when I get there. She's completely oblivious to all the time that has elapsed than things that have  transpired. That she doesn't tell me she missed me so much because she didn't even realize our time apart. That she just grabs my hand and shows me something awesome. Like we never missed a beat. And I will hug her and smother her and this time she can't die. So it'll be a REALLY tight and suffocating hug drowned with kisses. And she'll wonder why I'm being so Mushy. Laughing but still overwhelmed by the love. And I will leave her to her play. Run to the feet of my Savior. And this cry. This worship is the kind I hope everybody gets to experience. Glory to your name Jesus. hallelujah and thank You for babysitting my daughter while I'm at work. I will pick her up right on time. Happy 6 earth months in heaven my little mover and shaker. I could not be more proud of you. Or more humbled to have the honor of being your mommy.

No comments:

Post a Comment