I've had some crazy technical difficulties with my margins lately. I finally figured out that my 'Celebrating Owen's life' post was messing up my margins. I have no idea why. I'm stumped.
So, I had to delete the pictures and basically re-write the post. Maybe some day I'll get the pictures back on the post, but for now I'm just happy my blog looks normal again.
Anyways, I'm not feeling nearly as lighted hearted as the above paragraphs might sound. One year ago today, I miscarried my third sweet little baby. Little did I know then that my soon-to-be good friend, Tonya, was at the hospital delivering her little boy Grady.
Grady and Owen shared the same due date, one year apart. Now I imagine Owen partying it up with Grady, celebrating one year in Heaven (though I don't know how time works there).
Please stop by Tonya's blog and offer her your love and prayers.
Last night, I lost it.
I mean, really really lost it. I was in the kitchen making soup and I just happened to turn the radio to the local Christian station (which normally *gasp* I don't listen to) and the Steven Curtis Chapman song about Heaven and his little girl was playing. One moment, I'm stirring tomato soup and the next minute I'm kneeling on the tile floor sobbing.
I miss my little boy so much. My heart aches with the longing inside. I cried out to the Lord with my sorrow and longing, knowing that He hears me and cares about my sadness. But I still don't understand it.
I don't understand why Owen died. Two years later, I'm not any closer to understanding the purpose or meaning.
But I know He loves me. He hears me. He cares.
He will make it everything right one day.