Creaks and groans and memories past...

Every time I think I've gotten rid of the last thing of Hannah's, I find something else. It's usually an unexpected, takes-my-breath-away moment that causes the chaos that led me to the discovery, to come to a quick halt. There's always a pause--usually brief--where I stop and simply thank God for the blessings we have. Joy, for our family, seems to have grown up from a garden watered in tears.
Oh, that's so dramatic...quick, pass me a tissue...choke...
Seriously, though--the pain of losing Hannah makes the very presence of Jericho that much more awesome, and I mean that word in it's true definition. AWEsome. Anytime I have that sharp-inhale feeling (that can easily turn into a full-blown panic attack, if I let the fear reign), it is quickly quieted by lessons learned about being present....about embracing THIS moment, the one right in front of me...not the one we had...not the one in the future...and not the one where I wonder what could have been. THIS moment. Right here. Green/gold/brown eyes stare back into my own...a giggle escapes the tiny human that grew in my womb...I am overcome with the need to hug this little man...this little world-changer...
It's not glossing over the past.
It's embracing the miracle of now.
It's understanding that she is in my future, in Heaven, with my Savior---with the One Who has carried us through it all...
It's laying down the ever-present fear...turning off the news and the feeds...It's faith, it's hope, and it's relying on Jesus.
This Jesus--I sometimes think I am the worst representative of Him. I swear, I can be extremely disrespectful, I mess up constantly, and I'm known to be linguistically lethal when so inclined. But in my heart of hearts, I hope no one ever questions the simple fact that flawed as I am, I love Jesus. Seeing Him face-to-face is the greatest desire of my heart, and always has been, even when I was so angry that I wanted to look Him in the face long enough to scream at Him. He's the only true constant in my life...He's my Best Friend, and He loves me for who I am...and for who He made me to be.
Trusting Him at this stage of my life is a whole new ball game. I'd imagine that parents that have lost a child have a much harder time doing this, than most? I don't know; it's just way too easy for me to personalize every news story with "it could be him...That could be my son..." The news is overwhelming to me,  and I don't think that's going to get any better. It freaks me out. God is bigger than the worst of my anxiety, and for that, I am grateful. I find reminders of His magnitude everywhere I look. Psalms 8 comes to mind...I find tremendous peace in looking at His hand in nature, and I'm so excited that warmer weather is here! The outdoors is the best therapy in the world.
Anyways, I started this blog out about things that belonged to Hannah. The last remaining thing (I think, outside of her memory box) is her rocking chair. It's the only piece of her furniture that I did not have removed from my house; we were so broke when we were pregnant, that our beloved rocking chair was $10 from our local Goodwill. I simply do not have the heart to get rid of it, even though it creaks, and groans, and is full of memories of not only her little life, but of Jericho's full, long, hilarious life.
I've dried tears, cried tears, rocked babies to sleep, played in, rested in, and prayed countless prayers in this old, creaky rocking chair. Tonight, it groaned its protests as I settled back into it, rocking Bug to sleep for the second time tonight...
This child brings me the greatest of joys, and teaches me more about the love of God than I could have ever thought...
That rocking chair...I don't know who had it before us...whose babies were rocked in it, whose tears were dried in it, or whose prayers were prayed in it...I do know that it is part of our family legacy, and that in spite of the sound effects, we will keep it until its in pieces...
And then I'll use it in an art project. :) (That's a reference to "Hoarders," LOL).