but then somethings I just remember. it comes back. a memory so etched it feels as if I couldn't possibly forget.
today marks two years since that telling ultrasound with our Evan. two years. that seems hard to fathom. yet, I remember. I remember the heat of the day. I remember driving alone to the next doctors appointment. I remember the flood of information, the tears, the questions, the uncertainty.
I remember how He was faithful when I was faithless.
I remember visions of standing at a funeral surrounded by our friends and family. I remember the words, the thoughts, the breath being sucked right out of me. I remember the pain of it all.
but in great contrast to all of my worldly pain, I remember the Lord's tender care for me.
I remember the phone calls. the texts. the cards. the love. the late night conversations on the couch. the unending support. the meals that showed up on the hardest days.
I remember the overwhelming outpouring of love and support by our people. the Lord had been weaving them into our lives for decades, surely knowing they would uphold us in that season.
I remember his promise that darkness would not prevail. the sweet phenomenon of pouring rain in the noonday sun reassuring me.
I remember all the things I thought I knew before were the only things I had left to stand on. His promises were true.
the world looked different tomorrow. my husband, my kids, my family and friends. when I woke up tomorrow, it all so clearly looked like grace.
and sadly, that is something that I am likely to forget. it's so easy to forget that it is all grace. Lord, may I remember.