Our First Family (aka small group from church) surprised us at Chance's funeral with this tree, birdhouse, and sign. A tangible, heart felt gift, and something we can look at from our kitchen window every single day. Amazing.
And then the storm hit. Not just a little-bit-of-rain type of storm. But a storm so large I was scrambling for flashlights (and batteries because apparently we don't think to keep working batteries in said flashlights) and candles, and I huddled in the middle of my bed with my phone and (working) flashlight and no electricity. And the storm just kept raging. Flashes of lightening were evident as they lit up the sky outside my window. Thunder raged, over and over and over. And the rain just kept coming down. Because of course. . . it is the first night that I am alone.
In that moment, I just started to let loose the tears that were inevitable.
Chance's itty bitty casket, flowers, cross, and bear.
The cross is now nestled inside the pot in the tree above.
Yet in that moment of deep vulnerability, I felt the Lord wrapping me up tightly, taking hold and reminding me that while right now life feels scary and sad and overwhelming, it is only time before the storm will stop and the sun will shine again.
Because it will. God has proven this time and time again in my life and in yours. God promises we will not pass through this life without seasons of darkness. And God also promises the dawn after the dark. Every time.
Our entire family gathered together to pray in the hospital delivery room.
Chance was born shortly after.
From the balloon release at the end of the service. Love the visual reminder and as someone said "I think the balloons made it there just in time for his heaven welcome party."