hope

As I was driving along the all too familiar route to Ky's gym, I gazed upon the trees that lined the freeway. In the dead of winter they appeared barren, cold and desolate - silhouettes of crisp, black sticks against a cool, blue sky. It was hard for me to believe that these were the same trees that were full of lush, green foliage just months before. The memory of the trees in their prime filled my veins with warmth and joy... and hope for what was to come in the months ahead. Oh, summer, I cannot wait!!!

I love that God allows us to see His character in His creation. What a wonderful reminder it is of His great faithfulness to us in our personal lives. As our family looks ahead into the near future, we know that there is a valley ahead - a desolate place where our hearts will break and we will feel darkness around us and the cold sting of incredible loss as we are forced to let go of our baby girl. We will feel empty and barren and lifeless. We will cry rivers of tears as we ache for her little voice and sweet snuggles to welcome us again. We have been there before and were nearly consumed by grief... which makes this trip into the valley seem almost more dreadful. But, it is also more hopeful, for we were not consumed. Though we hurt, we experienced God's loving compassion and comfort. He was faithful in renewing and healing our grieving hearts.

And so, even though we are about to walk through the dark and dreary valley again, we have hope to hold onto. In His perfect time, He will make our empty lives full again; He will make our darkness light; He will hold us in His warm embrace until the bitter cold disappears; He will replace our sorrow with joy, our mourning with dancing; and our season of winter will blossom into spring... and eventually summer once again. It is to this hope that I cling.