She sees him everywhere.
When she’s folding laundry, and she notices that his clothes are absent.
When she’s picking up toys and she wonders if he would have liked to play with them.
When she’s strapping the kids in the car and sees his empty seat.
She couldn’t have imagined before that her heart could break so many times in a single day. Every day. How difficult it would be to navigate the ever present grief.
Even when she’s not looking for reminders, they’re there. Like when a friend has a new baby or she hears a song on the radio or a familiar verse is mentioned during a sermon. It’s like her heart is instantly there, in those moments of fear, suffering, longing and desperation. She doesn’t have to try to remember. Some things are always there, just underneath the surface, easily erupting.
There are days when she can’t believe she’s able to get out of bed.
But she knows she is not alone. She knows every moment had a purpose. Every tear fell for a reason. Every minute of her son’s life was a testimony to the incredible power and plan of God. Where there is grief, there is also peace. She knows he is whole and healed. And even though she is not yet whole and healed, she knows one day her suffering will be changed into marvelous delight.
It’s getting easier to smile at the memories. Not all the time, but sometimes. She’s seen with her own eyes how much good came out of the biggest trial of her life…for her, for her family, for friends, even for strangers.
So yes, there is a void in her life. There always will be. She’s not expecting--or really even wanting--that void to go away.
But there is joy too. There is the healing balm that her Savior spreads over her wounds.
And her heart is full. Because she sees Him everywhere.