Sunday

On Sunday I went out to Joshua's grave for the first time in a while. I'm not sure if I had been consciously avoiding going there or if it has just been the busyness of life that has stopped me. Maybe a little of both. Jeff had some things he needed to do, so when Caroline woke up from her nap, I told her that we were going to go the cemetery for a little while to go to Joshua's grave. She said that she needed to draw a picture for him before we left, so she pulled out a coloring book and went to town with her new markers. She had me write his name on it when she was done. Before we left, she said, "Oh, Mama, us need to bring Joshua his bear." What a memory this girl has! Probably two months ago she saw the teddy bear that the hospital gave to us when we delivered Joshua and we told her that it was "Joshua'a bear" and she hasn't seen it since. I told her that we would keep his bear for him at home, but we can bring him his picture today.

As we drove to the cemetery, she asked if we were going to see Joshua, and this is the point at which I always get a little careful about what to say and how to explain this situation to her. Of course I don't want to explain too much, but at the same time, I don't want her to expect him to physically be there either. I can't remember the words I used, but after I explained that we weren't really going to "see" him, she said, "And the angel is going to be there?" There is no angel on Joshua's grave marker or anywhere near his grave marker as far as I could remember, so I asked her if there was an angel there before. She said that there was an angel there, so I just told her that there might be an angel there again, I figured that she must know better than I!

As we walked up to his grave, she wanted to "give him" the picture she colored, so we figured out a way to stick it in the vase for his flowers. Mom had been there the day before, so he had some pretty wild flowers to go with the picture from Caroline. We cleaned off his grave marker as well as the ones for other babies nearby. I always feel like I need to "do something" while I'm there, like pull up weeds, clean his marker, pick up sticks. I read on another blog from a mom who lost an hours old baby that those things were her way of "parenting" her child, even though the child is gone. I totally identify with that and it gave me words for my feelings. As we left, Caroline said "I want baby Joshua to come home with us." Tears streaming down my face already, I told her "Me too Caroline."

Lately, in the midst of being torn between the throes of joy and anxiety about Baby #3, I have been trying to make more sense of all that has happened to us. Coming to grips with the plain truth that God could have changed all of this and we could be taking care of a baby who (based on his due date) would have been three months old yesterday. Instead we are not. We are visiting a cemetery to leave flowers and pictures and to wipe dust and mud from a grave marker. I know with all that is in me that God is real and true and good. Truth and Goodness have no meaning apart from Him, and yet He allows these things that feel so wrong. I come back to this point over and over: I will likely never be able to grasp why he allowed this. I have no idea why he allows things like this and much worse to happen to those whom he loves. I suppose that is my circular path of trust - I keep coming around to that painful truth, and I have to trust and hope in Him.

"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.' The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory." Romans 8:15-17

Grace and peace.