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.
