Reflecting on what is and what might have been

This week we will be remembering the fourth anniversary of the birth and death of our daughter, Alaina. So I wanted to reflect a bit on what all of this has meant to us, but more specifically to me because not all of my experiences are exactly the same as Colleen’s have been.
This anniversary obviously brings back some painful and heartbreaking memories, but I can honestly say with joy and peace in my heart that I am able to reflect on her short life without feeling like the pain or grief is unbearable. In fact, I find that it is almost gone and I am able to think of her tiny features, her blond hair, and the time I spent with her as cherished memories rather than with bitterness or anguish.
I firmly believe that this healing would not have been possible without the peace that Jesus said he would leave with us, and the knowledge that her death was not the end, but rather is beginning. I can say this because I have seen others who have walked through this dark valley many years hence, and without the comfort of Jesus as their personal Savior they are at the same place emotionally that they were on the day that it happened.
I rejoice in being thoroughly and completely convinced that God knows what He is doing, and that He does indeed have a plan for my life. I often do not understand what He is doing, but the knowledge that He is in control is sufficient. At this stage of my life, and seeing through the “dark glass”, I believe that I have an idea what God’s plan may have been, though I would venture to say that 5-10 years down the road I may have a better, or different, understanding.
I would never have described myself as a cold, unfeeling, or uncaring person. Quite the opposite, I would have said that I cared about people. However, after the excruciating experience of losing a child, I now have a compassion for the hurting that I never could have imagined before. When someone relates a story of some injustice, a loss, or some other experience that is causing them pain I get this indescribable feeling in my chest, almost as if someone was reaching in and twisting my heart. It can almost be embarrassing at times because I find myself getting teary-eyed about other people’s pain, when the same story does not seem to have much, if any, effect on most of the people around me.
My challenge to myself is to act on these feelings by bringing words of encouragement, and/or providing some sort of physical aid, if necessary.
I thank God that He is Lord of all, and He will always do what is best for me, even when it hurts.