Although I know that there is comfort and reassurance in the events that made Christmas a reason to celebrate, there is so much about these holidays that just hurts. The Christmas story is about a baby. Not that I'm comparing Elliana to the King of kings who came as a babe. But just hearing about a baby is difficult. And it's everywhere. Manger scenes, songs on the radio, Christmas hymns, Christmas sermons. Reminders are everywhere. Reminders that I'm supposed to be holding and snuggling a baby girl this Christmas, and I'm not. Reminders even in a dirty santa game - in a gift that our family wound up with: diaper rash cream.
REALLY??
Why couldn't we have opened the scarf, or the 'Life Begins at 40' mug?
Diaper rash cream. Another reminder that my baby is gone.
I sorta want to cuss. And throw something.
We finally decorated our tree - last Sunday night. It was up for 2 weeks before we put any lights or ornaments on it. We have several ornaments this year that are 'Elliana's' - that made it easier to think about decorating the tree.
I made some ornaments with each of the kids' pictures in them, and included Elliana.
Elijah picked out an ornament just for me - the dove - and told me it was in remembrance of Elliana.
It's not visible in this picture, but I gave Jason a football ornament that says 'Daddy's Ella Belle' - because their favorite thing to 'do together' was watch football games.
A friend gave me an angel - an ornament of remembrance.
Another friend sent me several ornaments, each with significance for this Christmas - the glittery silver heart, 'Believe', 'Joy', 'Noel', 'Peace' (which I dropped and broke - feels appropriate), and the snowman with the family.
And the blond angel. My favorite.
My mom and dad stopped by our house a couple weeks ago on their way back home. My mom brought an ornament for me. She said she had found it in her collection of Christmas ornaments as she was decorating her tree.
My mom doesn't remember finding this ornament in Christmases past.
It's an angel made out of blond hair. It's in the picture above, almost at the top of the tree.
When I went through the memory box from the hospital, the first envelope I saw said 'A Lock of Hair'. Relief washed over me, and I picked up the envelope to look inside.
It was empty. No lock of hair. I sobbed. And sobbed. I searched the rest of the box. I looked in the envelope again. And then once more. And it still wasn't there. I don't know why it was so important to me, but it was.
So... in a strange way that maybe only makes sense to me, this angel ornament made of blond hair feels like a gift. A gift not just from my mom. But from the One who gave me Elliana. Who gave her that beautiful blond hair just for me. And Who took her away.
I don't know how to reconcile all of that. He gives and He takes away. I hear people say that a lot. Like it's just part of life. It just happens. We should expect it. And sometimes it even sounds like... we (I) should be ok with it.
But I'm not ok with it. It's not ok that she's gone. It's not ok that I only got to hold her for a few hours before she died. It's not ok that the body of one of my children will be in a cemetery on Christmas morning - rather than in my arms, being part of the Christmas morning chaos.
It's not ok. I'm not ok.
And yet somehow, I know that the birth of Jesus gives hope. The Gospel is hope.
I wish I could see it - the hope. And hear it. My brain is clouded by fog - nothing seems clear, and nothing makes sense.
I made a broccoli and rice casserole today, which called for 1 cup of dry rice. I had 1/2 a cup of rice. Went to the store, bought more rice, came home, and without thinking, I dumped the entire bag of rice into the bowl of other ingredients I'd already combined. Like, cream of mushroom and celery soups - the rice stuck like glue. Realized my mistake, gasped, and amost cried.
If I can't comprehend and get a freakin' recipe right, how in the world will the Gospel ever make sense to me again?
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