I don’t write to express political beliefs or comment on the state of our nation. I do it for me, to heal, to convince myself that I am ok, and that this wonderful life can continue even after tragedy.
But this last month has been really tough. Tough for a lot of people in many different ways. Our country alone has been hit hard by some terrible, devastating events. And here I am, still crying over my baby lost, while trying to raise my baby gained, and clinging onto some hope that it just must get better than this.
So tonight, after three days of a little one with a fever, missed days of work, too much daytime news, and quite a bit of frustration, I told my sweet little man to pick his two books to read before bedtime.
He’s feeling pretty terrible, and a little extra whiney, having eaten very little in the last few days, and still running a temperature, so I said, “Buddy, for a special treat tonight, let’s go downstairs to pick your two books.”
He was very excited, as usually his two books come from a big bin on his bedroom floor full of board books he can keep in bed that we’ve read twenty five times each. The books downstairs are those we rarely see, that are put away on shelves, ones Mommy wants to be careful not to ruin because they were given to his brother on a special occasion, or have sentimental value, or may still have some scent of my little angel left on them.
We walk downstairs and he scans the shelves. He wants the biggest book he can see, which is our Children’s Bible. I can honestly say it has maybe been opened once, and I’ve never read a single story in it. The other is ‘Curious George.’
We snuggle in on the couch and the TV mumbles in the background while I open the big book. He sees pictures of animals and asks for that story. I begin reading ‘Noah’ to him and we look at pictures of the arc and the animals walking two by two. At the end of the story, I begin reading how God sends a rainbow, and immediately think of my sweet angel and how he sends his Mama rainbows. At that very moment the TV shut off. I kept reading and my little man said, “Mommy, you see rainbows?”
“Yes, baby. I do. Your brother in Heaven sends them to me.”
‘Oh!’ He exclaimed and smiled.
I put the book down and open Curious George. On the first page, one that hasn’t been seen for almost 5 years, is his brother’s name and the date we gave him that book while he was growing strong in the NICU.
Thank you, angel, for showing yourself and restoring my faith. We know you’re with us and will always welcome and watch for your little ‘hellos.’ We know, because of you, to keep loving this life.
One thought on “With a little faith”
He’s right there with you, all the way.