Life is Good...

Yesterday all the children's choirs sang at our 11:00 worship service. Both Charlotte and Rehm were singing. Michael was not at church with us as he was home with the little girls as they were recovering from sinus infections.

Charlotte's choir only sang the first two songs of the service. I needed to pick her up and take her back in the sanctuary with me right after she sang. When I went to pick her up I was talking to a dear friend who was also picking up her daughter. We are in support group together*. We both have children in heaven. She was telling me about a book on loss she has been reading. She quoted the last couple of sentences of the book. I can't give credit here as I don't know the title or the author. When I do I'll let you know as it sounds like an interesting book that I would like to read. Anyway, the book ends with something along these lines: "Life is good but something is missing. Life is good and something is missing. Life is good..."

My friend was pointing out that today was one of those days when we got to live the "life is good." That we were making wonderful memories with our living children, doing the things we always thought and dreamed about doing when we had children one day. And that today "life was good." It was so very true.

Charlotte and I went back in the sanctuary and she was sitting in my lap. We had a family get baptised. After they had baptised the baby the minister led the congregation in singing "Jesus Loves Me." This is a part of baptisms that is especially hard for me as we sang that song at Sam's memorial service. I can hear children sing it with no problem. But hearing adults sing it, especially in our sanctuary puts me right back in the second row of the church singing "Jesus Loves Me" with aching empty arms, a six inch incision that was throbbing, feet too swollen to fit into shoes, tears streaming down my face, wondering if I will ever get to hear a child of mine sing that song. It brings me to tears every time. Every. Time.

Yesterday I was sitting in the church with my precious five year old on my lap, listening to her sweet voice sing those wonderful words accompanied by the voices of the congregation and my dear friend's words started echoing in my head "Life is good but something is missing. Life is good and something is missing. Life is good..." I hugged Charlotte a little closer, and yes, I shed a few tears. I was right back at the memorial service but this time I was holding a child of mine and hearing her sweet singing. A feeling of coming full circle washed over me. Life is good.

No matter how many years pass or how full my life is, Sam will always be in my heart and mind. I will always, always wish he were here with me. But I will not let his loss overshadow the the blessing of knowing Sam for such a brief time or the additional blessings God has bestowed on me and my family. Life is good!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow...
Jenn


*Let me just say a bit about support group. Michael and I attended a group regularly for serveral months after Sam was born. It made a huge difference for me to be around others who truly understood what we were dealing with. Several years later, we felt called to start a group at our church. We have since passed on leadership to others who are better suited to leading the group today. I don't attend regularly and I no longer need group to get through the month, but I love this group of people. Even 9 years after Sam's death, it is still great to have friends, and they are definitely my dear friends, who truly understand what it means to have a child in heaven. I see this group regularly, mostly for social gatherings and do attend group every couple of months. I strongly recommend support groups to anyone going through difficult times. It is so nice to know you are not alone and that what you are feeling and thinking is completely normal given the circumstances.