Of Angels and things.
Today is the 29th.
Keziah's birth-day.
The Day she was born to us in an uncomfortable, eerie, gut wrenching silence, the kind where you can hear your ears ring.
nothing
And, Gracious nurses, and precious best friends surrounded us, and filled this silence with their lack of words, their own silence, their own bewilderment, their own excruciating cries out to a God that for a moment seemed not to listen.
It's not God.
It is His world that is wrecked by us.
When we pin things on others. When it is always someone else's fault, when we fail to take responsibility for the mess this place we call earth is, on for ourselves - that is when, we make the human experience just a little bit worse.
Rather. What do you own, of the mess? See, you can look at a mess, and say "someone made that, and they should clean it up Dammit!!!" and you can whine and complain for hours.
Or
You can be the change you want to see in your world.
And.
Clean it up. Help out. Get it done.
Have a deep look at yourself, and decide what you will change tomorrow, to make tomorrow the place you want to exist in.
Cry your tears of futility, that no one else will do it. No one else will help. No one else cares as much, and then grab a gear, step on the pedal, and get it done.
Today, my family gathered around a Christmas tree, and to the top of that tree I placed an angel. A beautiful, brown curly haired bright face, Angel. When my Bride and I found this angel we were mesmerized, we 'knew' this was the one. And oddly as we watch our older girls mature, we see their face in this angel, and Keziah's delicate features.
And into the silence.... the piercing silence.
Screams the voice of Almighty God.
"I love you"
"As much as you don't understand stillbirth, as much as you can't comprehend, you are here now, and all of those past experiences made you the wonderful pieces of my creation that you are today."
And, we listened to music. And we spoke of things that could have been. Of friends that could have been, of siblings that could have been, and somehow, sharing it with one another, made it normal, made it better - even though it isn't.
It sucks
But "It sucks" is not the final word of my story. As long as I have breath, the final word of my story is yet to be spoken, and although Christmas has changed, in a weird way, it changed for the better.
Thank you Keziah, for everything that could have been - Happy birthday ~dad
slv2all
3 comments:
I admire your heart my dear brother. You and your family are in my heart!
I love you much
Thank you for writing your experience down. Your expression is a window to the beauty of Keziah and all that she means to you and your family, beloved friend.
You have the ability to reach to the marrow of my bones. This is simply something I can not imagine. I am certain your family is not alone in this heart-wrenching experience. I am also certain that many families are not EVER able to use their loss as a way to bring them closer. By opening your hearts, being vulnerable and sharing your grief - you touch the hearts and souls of those that aren't able to express and share. Please, please PLEASE keep doing what you are doing. You may have lost the pure enjoyment of the "physical" prescence of your daughter, but I guarantee you that your little princess, Keziah, is thee "Guardian Angel" of your family and will continue to wrap her precious arms around all of you bringing peace and comfort in times like this. Blessings to you all.
Post a Comment