Monday, September 21, 2009

My Broken Hallelujah

Four years ago from this very moment I was sitting in a hospital room holding the lifeless body of my precious Emma in my arms. I was wiping her hair from her face and the tears from my eyes as I felt the weight of her against me one last time. It was a horrible, yet wonderful moment for me. As I held her and looked at her I knew without one doubt that the Emma I had known and loved was not living in that shell any longer. I knew that the part that made her Emma was no longer trapped in that broken and sick body. Like a bird released from a cage, she was finally free!



After watching her struggle for nine years, how could I, her mother, not rejoice for her? How could I not feel such great peace in knowing that she was released from the pain and the fighting? I had known in the end that she was holding on for us. I could see it. I could feel it. Just days before she left us I had held her in my arms, sang to her and kissed her neck as I looked into her eyes and told her that the next time she heard Jesus calling her name she needed to go to Him. I told her it was okay, that we would be sad and miss her but we would be okay. I had to let her go. I had to release her. I had to give her permission, for my sake and hers. And when the time came, how could I begrudge her that freedom? I find such peace in that picture of her hearing that voice calling her name, turning her head toward the voice, and running into the arms of the only one who loves her more than I do!




Yes, that was a wonderful moment. She was Happy ... Whole ... Healed ... Finally free!




But it was a horrible moment. I was Sad ... Broken ... Grieving ... Trapped in my loneliness.




How do you reconcile those opposite emotions? That is the journey I have been on for the past four years. Living in two different worlds. Caught in the in-between. I am trying to fully live this life I have here on this earth, yet I am so longing to go Home. I want to see my girl! I want to hear her say those words I never heard her say, "I love you, Mommy.". I want to see her run, walk, jump, dance for joy! I want to hold her in my arms and feel the weight of her against me once again. That day is coming and that is what I hold on to when the darkness of grief threatens to overtake me.


Yet, I am here. And I do love the life I live. I love my family and my girls with everything I have and I don't want to waste one single day dwelling on the past or longing for the future. I want to appreciate and experience these gifts I have been given and I do! Watching Allie and Anna Grace grow and change is my greatest joy.




So, today I give a broken hallelujah. I lift the shattered pieces of my praise to God and I say thank you for the gifts He has given me. The gifts here on this earth that I enjoy every day and the gift that awaits me. I am caught in the in-between but it's okay. My Emma is where she needs to be and we are living the lives we are meant to live for now. And some day, some glorious day, we will be together again! All of the people that I love, together, in one place singing not a broken, but a New Hallelujah!




1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sorry for your loss of Emma. I am sure to have such mixed emotions about her passing has to be difficult. I'm sure she is running around in heaven and having a blast!! She is giving you hugs and telling you not to worry about her. I love the picture of her running into the arms of Jesus. Did someone draw that for you? It is beautiful and brought tears to my eyes!!