It’s a beautiful morning in the California desert today. The sky is its reliable clear blue and the sun is shining its smile through the blinds and all over the living room floor, where Sofie the Cat is enjoying her morning sunbath.
Firstie and Middlin are discussing the attritubutes of their favorite raptors like the Beltway Boys discuss politics. Pip is in his room (his “imaginarium”) pretending to be a squawking jungle animal. Hub was up and out the door at 4:00 to prepare for a big day of work ahead.
Paula Deen just finished cooking up her favorite Thanksgiving favorites and my stomach’s starting it’s morning rumble.
Life couldn’t be any better, and yet, my heart is heavy because I’m missing a precious heart here at home. It was eleven years ago today that I miscarried Mary Elizabeth. I’m not surprised at how hard these anniversaries are, even so many years later. Having three beautiful children here on earth, I have an idea of the splendor of life that we miss when we lose a child before they’re born. It’s just never easy.
I’m comforted by the tears of Christ, at hearing of the death of His dear friend, Lazarus (even though He knew that He would raise him from the dead), and the knowledge that the human soul is immortal and that our true Home is Heaven with our Heavenly Father.
So, my heart is heavy with the sorrow of a lost child, but is buoyed by the joy the Resurrection. I have great hope that I will see my beautiful children someday and meet them face to face for the first time. All in good time. All in God’s time.
But right now, I’m here with these wonderful boys and it’s getting to be brunch time. I’m thinking that today is a great day for French folded eggs for breakfast with frozen glazed blueberries and toast. Life is good. Time to get up and live it.