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Yesterday’s post ended up speaking to its author. Journaling is so helpful to me in my faith walk.  Because I had written about a moment in time, I was able to look back to that Sunday I watched Abby worship. I could trace small, almost imperceptible steps from there to the place we stand today.  It’s not a great place, but it’s a growing place.

We still grieve our Anna.  I think of her every day with a longing.  I want our family to be complete, and we will never feel complete until we pull her into our arms in heaven.  I wish I could tell grieving mothers that the ache will pass–the deep ache that breaks my heart to even attempt to put into words.   I’m afraid mine’s not going anywhere.  But if the ache is what I must endure in order to remember our Anna, I will hold onto it with both hands.

A couple of weeks ago, Joey and I had the great privilege of seeing one of our favorite artists, Steven Curtis Chapman, in concert.  Even though I looked forward to it, I knew it was going to be a difficult experience. Chapman lost his daughter and has written several songs about his family’s deep, painful loss.  I was right.  It was very hard.  What I did not expect, however, was to hear a song by the opening act, The Afters, that would cause me to sit down, frustrated and confused with my battery of emotions.  The lead singer shared how he and his wife had almost lost their child shortly after his birth and how this song came from that experience.  This is humbling to admit, but I felt so angry that he could stand up there and talk about his testimony when his child had lived and is now a healthy toddler. It seemed so unfair.

I heard the song on the radio the next week–several times, actually–and finally allowed its message to break through my shell. I opened my heart, just a bit, and I thought to myself, “That’s not exactly where I am right now, but that’s where I want to be.”

So with that in mind, I want to share a video of our journey with Anna set to that special song, “Broken Hallelujah.”  It’s my way of honoring Anna. It’s also my way of admitting that there is room for me to grow in my relationship with my God.  I still get angry. I still feel cheated.  I still want to scream sometimes.  But I also feel blessed to have held and loved my Anna, who has an eternal soul and whom we will see again only because God made a way for us. That journey home begins with one step, a step toward Jesus Christ, who is the author and finisher of our faith.

Happy Birthday, Anna.  We love you, Baby Girl.  We can’t wait for part two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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