Remnants of 5

“she’s getting so big!” the lady says,
putting a bulletin in my empty hand
while looking at my daughter,
who is holding the other.

“i know!” i reply, inwardly bracing
for the inevitable facing
of follow-up comments and “demands.”
a command to have…

“number 2…!” she exclaims.
“it’s time for number 2!” she sing-songs,
her voice sweet and chiming.
(as if i have control over timing.)

i smile in response,
deciding to avoid the Great Awkward
that comes with a reality correction
that her suggestion? it’s in front of her.

the blue-eyed girl that holds my hand?
she’s that number 2.
number 1 was Gone-to-Soon…
she should suggest number 3.

but you see, we’ve had one of those, too.
our 3 came with a little pink line
that promised a friend to our number 2.
with that little line, our family grew.

oh, how we prayed for that little line!
it’s funny how much love grows with those little lines…
how your heart instantly expands
with thoughts of little hands and wrinkled feet!

but later, our line faded.
the Great Fear invaded.
i tried to hold on to hope; i had been here before–
trying to ignore grief until i had a Sign.

a week passed when the Sign returned;
rushing proof that 3’s presence was gone.
our family of 5 was split in half–
half here in my hands, half living There.

“it’s time for number 2!” she says.
there was no time to explain,
and i had no energy to spend
in amending my family in her mind.

my husband’s hand was on my shoulder.
oh, that poor man, doing what he could
to tell me he understood and
to shelter me from any extra… anything.

we wore our smiles and held on
to our bulletins and the remnants of our family.
the lobby was long, but we walked through…
my husband, myself, and our number 2.

right now, my heart is heavy… but not just for me.  i have several wonderful friends going through their own valleys of loss and longing for children– ones who have passed, and ones that only have existed in hopes and dreams.

know i am praying for you… i have said this before, and i will say it again and again.

one day, God is going to come and fix all the brokenness!  HE promises to fix it all, and i rest in that promise.

until then, may you find comfort, in knowing “that your sufferings, your losses, and persecutions shall make you a platform, from which the more vigorously and with greater power you shall witness for Christ Jesus.”*

my prayers for all of us, until the Day of our Hope appears…






* Charles Spurgeon


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