15 weeks in Heaven

Imagine the thought of that, 15 weeks in Heaven. I wonder what little Sarah is seeing with her little baby eyes.
I wonder what angelic songs she is hearing in praise to our heavenly Father. I would love to see how much she's grown. I would love to see her precious little smile, and feel the softness of her face, and kiss her little baby lips.
I would love to caress her delicate golden baby hair. It was so pretty, I wish you could have seen it. She was the blondest of all my children. I wish I would have taken a photo of the back of her sweet little head so you could have seen how pretty her hair was. The nurse at the hospital gave me a little snippet of it to keep. Every once in a while I take it out of the envelope and look at it. Actually, I've only been able to do that once. I don't want to loose any of it. Plus, I would have to prepare myself for a good deal of weeping.
My arms still ache to hold her.

Her little pink cradle still sits in the corner of my room. My daughter Madeline made a new cover for it last spring. It's kind of bright pink soft corduroy with dark brown trim along the bottom and white eyelet trim around the top. In it is the softest of soft pink blankets that a friend of mine gave me. It has the words, "Thank Heaven for little girls" embroidered on it. There is also a soft little pink teddy bear sitting in her cradle that says "My first Bear" sometimes I give him a little hug when I walk by.
Her dresser is still filled with pretty little frilly dresses and little pink onesies and fancy little socks that I never got to dress her in. My husband was the only one to dress her. He had put on her a little white t-shirt. I sleep with that little t-shirt beside my pillow. Sometimes I lay it over my leg and try to imagine her little body in it. I still weep.
I don't open the dresser very often either. It still holds all the special little things that the girls and I made for her. Little booties, little hats, special little blankets, that little pink sweater that I crocheted for her last winter by the  fire as I was waiting for her to arrive. I remember feeling her move inside me. I miss being able to feel her. I still feel so empty inside.

This morning I read from Psalm 139:1-3
 O Lord,  thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways.
I think of Sarah when I read verses 14-17
I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!

I love reading verses in the Psalms where there are exclamation points!
Praise the Lord, O my soul.

Comfort for the day

I started reading a little booklet titled Grief, Finding Hope Again, by Paul  David Tripp.
I'll share some of the words that I read today.
Death is a cruel indicator that the world is broken; it's not functioning according to God's original design.
It makes us long to live with the Lord in a place where the last enemy~death~ has been defeated.
(1 Cor. 15:26)

You are not alone in death. One of the names of our Savior is Emmanuel ~ God with us.

Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

The Lord of light is your friend in darkness.
The Lord of life stands beside you in death.
The Lord of hope is your companion in despair.
The Prince of Peace supports you when no peace can be found.
The God of all comfort waits faithfully near you.
The source of all joy is close when death has robbed you of all joy.

His name is Jesus, and I know that he weeps with me.

 Grace be to you and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort;

 Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.

2 Corinthians 1: 2~4