I’ve always thought sadness and grief were the same thing. That grief was just a more descriptive word for sadness. I know now that it’s not the same. It’s not the same at all. Sadness can be cured with a distraction, a funny movie or a bowl of ice cream. Grief cannot. Grief stays. You feel it through your whole body and it doesn’t let go for even a second no matter what you do. You can try to hide it but it’s always there. So I pray. Everyone prays for us to experience a peace that surpasses all understanding and there ARE moments that I can breathe, but they are gone too quickly. I have been sad before but I have never come close to grieving… until now. I wake up every morning and think how can I survive this?

Over the past few weeks I have sat in front of a blank computer screen wanting to write something about how this all feels. But there are no words to describe the devastation of losing a child. No words do it justice. I’ve wanted to write something encouraging about the silver lining that I have found through all of this. I wanted to write about how God has made his purpose clear to me but I can’t, at least not yet. I mean what is there to say about my life that hasn’t gone at all how I had planned? Was it too much to ask for a healthy child and a long happy life for her? Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to go? Nothing I have prayed for has been unreasonable?  Why did God not want for me what I wanted for myself and for my family? What I wanted for Eliza? Some days these questions consume me. I am broken, my heart is shattered into a thousand pieces, my sweet girl that I dreamed of, that we prayed so hard for is gone and the only thing that I want is to hold her again.

And then at church on Sunday our pastor preached and I clung to these words, “my brokenness never disqualifies me from his blessings”

So I started to search for blessings. This pain that has made me so acutely aware of my grief can certainly help me see that there is hope right? Have I really not noticed the overwhelming amount of love that has surrounded Aaron and me? Have I not noticed that there hasn’t been one day that someone hasn’t come to our house to sit with me, to cry with me, to tell me that I’m not alone. Have I not noticed that there hasn’t been one day that someone somewhere has not prayed for our family. There are a thousand pictures of pinecones being posted with the hashtag #stopandsmellthepinecones, and emails and texts and cards with the sweetest words from people, some that have never even met Eliza. That means something. Those are all blessings.

Eliza was JOY and LOVE and HOPE and KINDNESS all wrapped up into one little girl. She was given to us for a reason. She was a light to so many people. Eliza made me a mom and Aaron a dad. She gave us HOPE. Her life was and is important even though it ended too soon.

My friend recently asked me if through everything I have experienced have I ever lost my faith and my answer was no. I truly haven’t. I question “why” all the time but faith is what has brought me through these darkest days. I know that having faith doesn’t exclude me from tragedy but it will get me through it. It has to.  I believe in my heart that God has not left me, that he is carrying me when I am at my weakest. That he has placed everyone and everything exactly where it should be, but it is still so hard. There are many days that this brokenness threatens to takeover.

And than I think of Eliza. I think of how she woke up every morning and smiled so big and said “hi” never even knowing how much harder she had to work than other children just to get through the day. How she would say thank you after she would have blood work done or kiss a doctor’s hand and say “boom boom” when they would listen to her heart. How she found complete happiness in a big bowl of popcorn or a pine cone.

So I will do what Eliza did. Even if its hard.  I will wake up every morning and smile and say Hi… and I will ALWAYS stop and smell the pinecones.

 | When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.| ~Isaiah 43:2