Five years ago the words "Happy New Year" were cruel, harsh words. My 3-year-old daughter Abigail had landed back in the hospital, on the oncology floor, because her deadly cancer had come back a few days previous. I knew she was going to die, it was only a matter of days or weeks or months. There was nothing happy about the New Year; those words were hurtful, they were bitter, and they were hypocritical. This was the year my little girl would die. "Happy New Year" was synonymous with "Which poisons would you like to choose (now that you have a choice) to put in your daughter in an attempt to keep her alive a little longer?"
Seven months later she returned Home. And then five months later, I was faced again with those same words of "Happy New Year." Really?! No, it was still not happy. At least in 2013 I could say I had still held her that year....with a new year, my words had to be phrased with "last year..." That was so hard.
This post is for those who are still feeling that raw, aching feeling and who don't love the words "Happy New Year." I understand, and my heart aches for your pain. Be gentle with yourself. Go ahead and dislike the words, or the newness of the year. There's nothing wrong with that. I have been there. And now it's been five years since then.
You can read back through this blog to find my description of how I am like a "blue sphere", but basically I'm focusing on the raw, painfully jagged hole that was scooped out of me when Abigail died. It throbbed, and my 'pain vessels' overflowed frequently. Miraculously, they rarely do anymore. I testify that Christ heals! He has truly built and created a protective barrier around my loss--He doesn't fill that hole, because that's where Abigail belongs. But He's bound up and stitched up and healed up the wound. The 'painflammation' is gone. Christ truly heals the broken hearted!!
He doesn't do it without permission. He will not override agency. So it was a process of learning to trust Him, trust His process, and "LET [my] heart be of good cheer." It takes faith. And it also takes time. Healing is definitely a lengthy process, regardless of what is broken.
Gratefully I can say "Happy New Year!" again, and mean it. He has also healed my perspective. It's not one year further away from when I held Abigail, it's one year closer to when I can hold her again. Now I choose to look at her relapse day as the day she was called on her mission, and her death day as the day she reported. What a missionary!
He is the Light and Life of my life. I am so deeply grateful that He and His Father are perfect: in their love, their purpose, and healing.
As always, faith.