This is now the fourth time I've started to write this entry. Every time I start I get utterly overwhelmed and can't finish. So, I've decided to break it down into parts. Today is part one and I'm just going to dive right in.
We've decided to adopt a baby. As I type this, there is an application and a check folded neatly into an addressed envelope, ready to be sent off to our adoption agency. Even now, weeks after we've decided to move forward, my heart races every time I think about it.
I've been going back and forth about writing about it here but I've finally come to a conclusion: We wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for Lydia. In a very real way, she is the inspiration. Until she was born, I never knew how much I loved being someone's mother and I never knew how amazing Micah was at being a father. Those were gifts she gave to us and now we feel like it's time to give that to someone else. This child, wherever they are now, will be loved exceedingly because Lydia taught us how to love. That is why I want to be able to talk about it here. Because whatever it is, she is a part of it still.
There are some incredible things that have already been happening in the wake of our decision but that will come in another post. Right now, we just want all of you who read and participate in our lives through this blog to know this. We would ask, as we have many times before, that you would lift us in prayer to the Lord as we begin to move forward.
Somewhere in the world (or maybe not even in the world yet) is a little person who is ours. We're ready to find them.
In August of 2009 God changed our lives by giving us a beautiful little girl. Lydia was born with Zellweger Syndrome. Lydia went to be with Jesus in April of 2010. This is the story of her life and death, and of our journey through grief in search of healing.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Winter River
On Christmas day I walked through the woods. I cried and talked aloud to Lydia, to Jesus, to the cosmos in general. I wrote Lydia's name in the snow. It made me feel like the earth and sky wouldn't forget her.
I came to the river. I leaned up against the boathouse dock, closed my eyes and listened. At first, all there was was the sound of my breathing. Then, from somewhere deep in the water I heard a whooshing sound. The river was groaning - singing. It was beautiful and made something in my heart vibrate.
Even while frozen, the river was alive and singing.
In months, when the spring comes, the river will thaw and will be again a hospitable place for things to live and grow. It will move, and the song once in the depths will rise again to the surface to be heard by any who pass by.
My soul is the winter river. There are layers of ice sheltering my heart. Still, quiet, frozen. But somewhere in the deep places is a groaning song. I am alive. I am singing. And the spring will come.
I came to the river. I leaned up against the boathouse dock, closed my eyes and listened. At first, all there was was the sound of my breathing. Then, from somewhere deep in the water I heard a whooshing sound. The river was groaning - singing. It was beautiful and made something in my heart vibrate.
Even while frozen, the river was alive and singing.
In months, when the spring comes, the river will thaw and will be again a hospitable place for things to live and grow. It will move, and the song once in the depths will rise again to the surface to be heard by any who pass by.
My soul is the winter river. There are layers of ice sheltering my heart. Still, quiet, frozen. But somewhere in the deep places is a groaning song. I am alive. I am singing. And the spring will come.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
8 Months, 8 Days
Today our girl has been in heaven as many days as she was on the earth.
Tomorrow she will have been gone longer than she was here.
I don't even know what to do with that, but there it is.
Tomorrow she will have been gone longer than she was here.
I don't even know what to do with that, but there it is.
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