Thursday, November 22, 2012


Sometimes the words well up inside me and beg to com out.

Sometimes there is silence.

I have been doing well lately, considering.

Considering. To me that word is invisibly tacked onto every sentence.

Considering that my daughter is still missing from every moment in my life.

I am getting a stocking made for Eva. A smaller version of the ones the others in our family have. She has a full-size one but a smaller one seemed more fitting, somehow.  I am mailing a  pair of her pants to the stocking lady. She will cut them up and use them as decorative trim on the stocking.  I held her pants one last time before I put them in the envolope. Remembered the cute little bum that filled them not too long ago. Caressed them and sealed the envelope.

And yet, I am doing well, considering.

I was in Superstore yesterday. I joked with the cashier.  I smiled at someone in the line-up. And I could not believe this was me.

I remembered last year in the months leading up to Christmas. We were only 3 months from losing our princess. I could not look at anyone. I could not smile. I could not joke. I could barely get it together to feed my family.  I cried, for hours.

So I guess I really am healing...really am doing well this year, considering.

And there really is only one sourse I can credit for the healing. Jesus. I have been meeting with Jesus at prayer meeting every Wednesday since September. I can honestly say that it is not just praying. Not just talking, talking, talking. It is meeting Him. Giving him take my pain, my fear, my dissapointment. Taking it and filling the void with His light, His joy, His love. His love for the least of these.  And I cry almost every time I go to prayer meeting. But I am being changed. Being transformed.

And, joy of joys, last time I saw Eva dancing next to Jesus. Saw her twirling in a pink dress. Not clearly, but it was my Eva. The Eva I want so, so, so badly to hold.

I often wish the veil would lift, even just for a moment. And I could race to heaven and hold her, kiss her, hug her. Breathe deep and smell her. Smell the sweet fragrance of my daughter.

And that is one of the gifts that Eva has given me. This yearning for heaven. Everything here is temporal. Everything there is eternal. And that is what I`m living for. Eternity. And I can`t wait to go there. Can`t wait to behold her. Just. Can`t. Wait.

But, wait I must. And do my time here on earth. Raise my sons to be godly men. Raise little J as a precious daughter. Praise God for our little hope baby and pray for more lives being transformed for eternity.

And I know today is Thanksgiving for my American friends. And I know how hard the holidays are. And I know I will have a hard time with Christmas but I am thankful to have shared my life, however briefly, with my little princess.  And I anticipate sharing eternity with her. Holding her so tight that all the questions will be washed away.

And while the tears flow I know that I am still doing well, considering.

Considering Eva is dead but also considering she is alive. Briefly with me and forever in heaven. Considering I will join her one day. Considering that Jesus has paid the price and given me the incomprehensible gift of eternity with my daughter.  Thank you.

And always considering that I miss her here on earth with every single breath I take.


  1. you sound like you are healing...considering:)
    I have Evas picture on my fridge and this month in particular I think of her almost everyday. Seleah is 10 months now and I cant help but be reminded of Eva and her short 10 months on earth:)

    1. I thought of Eva lots when you were over with Seleah. 10 month old babies will always be just a little painful to me. And yet I love seeing them too. Thank you for your visit and for continuing to read and your prayers.


  2. Replies
    1. Thanks Sally. I know you are having a hard time right now. I know the pain comes and goes like the tide. When the tide is out you know it will come in again but when the tide is in you also know it will recede again. Much love to you.

  3. The gift of yearning for perfectly said, so incredibly true..considering <3

    1. The gift of yearning for heaven is the biggest gift that Eva has given me through her death. Thank you Caroline.

  4. Just letting you know I still read every post you write. The stocking is a sweet idea. Regarding your last post: I'm glad you got a glimpse of Eva. I hope someday soon you'll have a nice long wonderful dream about her too.

    1. me too. There is nothing I want more. Thanks TS

  5. I truly am grateful you have such hope. I'm sure it helps you. Even though it is not mine. I can appreciate yours. I can feel it.