A couple of times I have mentioned Angie (I follow her blog). Yesterday would have been her Audrey's first birthday.
The night before last (3am yesterday, really) I spent my time nursing Patrick trying to decide what I would say in a comment left on the post I knew she was going to make. I'm glad I did that because reading the post brought back so much emotion that I'm sure if I hadn't thought about it beforehand, it would have just been babbling.
Anyway, I found myself saying a prayer as I was thinking about it. I was remembering all the things I felt on Cora's first birthday, all those things she would surely be feeling, and I just wanted to take the pain away from her. I wanted to say something that would make her feel better. I feel such a sisterhood for her. But what could I say? Nothing. None of my words would make one lick of a difference.
But then the Spirit whispered to me, and I remembered whose words can and will and do take the pain and grief away.
As I was thinking about what I felt, I remembered wondering a lot what I "did" to bring out this tragedy in my life. I think it's normal for a grieving mother, and I couldn't put into words how to reassure her that it's not her fault.
And then I remembered that Jesus was once asked, in reference to a man who had been blind all his life, whether it was his own sin, or the sin of his parents that had caused the trial. Whose fault was it that this man had to suffer? I admit, I had to look it up to get His exact answer.
"Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him." (John 9:3)
This trial was not a punishment, but rather the opportunity to experience the miracle of being healed.
That piggybacked on the talks of Conference struck me really hard. And it made me think of all the ways my trials have made the works of God manifest in my life. And I am so grateful for all those small miracles.
I don't know who I would be today if Cora were still here. But I can see all the ways I am better now than I was then, and I am so grateful for a loving Father who has molded me. Who let me experience the pain that I may know greater joy, and that I may grow into the person only He can see. I know my Father and my Savior so much better now than I did then. My relationship with Them is very real, and very powerful in my life.
I am not perfect. But I am better.
And now I'm going to switch gears. Pretend that this is a different post (I'm too lazy to do two separate ones)
Yesterday was fun. Erin really really really wanted to go outside (don't worry, the window was shut and latched). The leg warmers she's wearing are giraffe printed Baby Legs which were a gift from Aunt Jenny.
So I decided I was going to take a walk down to the farmer's market, taking the biking path that follows the freeway. I decided I'd wear Patrick, and take Erin in the umbrella stroller (not such a good idea. The umbrella stroller's handles are a bit too low for a long trip, especially if you've got 11ish pounds strapped onto the front of you. My back hurt pretty badly when I got home). Halfway home she decided she wanted to get out and walk. She was grinning SO cute just half a second before this picture, I promise. *sigh*
So I let her out, and she took off...
And then came back and decided to take the stroller away from me. She loves strollers. That's why she's getting a toy one from the Easter Bunny.
And because I don't want to leave Patrick out, since he's 6 weeks old today, here's a couple of him (in the outfit a got when I exchanged the outfit my Mom sent that was a duplicate) I call this expression his "Spock face" since he's raising one eyebrow. He does it a lot. And he even switches off eyebrows.
And the whole outfit.
Okay, I'm exhausted. Enough blogging for one day!
Chapter One of the Human Archive is in orbit…
22 hours ago