I just love this picture of her.
Standing on something
and you know that something is not high enough in her eyes.
I love her in this chair because it's our chair.
Really, it's every body's chair because we all spend a lot of time sitting in it.Aubry saw her mom last Thursday for the first time in over 7 months. I drove to the visitation cautiously, somewhat nervous, a little shakey but with a peace.
We had prayed for no separation anxiety on Aubry's part and our prayers were answered. She went to her mom with a little hesitation but looking at me she knew it was alright.
I knew it was alright.
That was it, a few instructions and I walked away.
I drove around the corner crying. Not really because I was sad but because an end may very well be in sight.
And I don't like that.
I mean it's what we've always expected, a healed mother is what we've prayed for; it's just I hurt thinking of letting go of this precious wonder.
We'll ease into the visits, wise council has offered wise advice.
Visits will be nothing like I would have wanted. No, why would they, how could this time of trust be simple?
I will drive her. I will drop her. I will pick her up.
I will face the hard truth.
The truth that my time, our time with Aubry living under our roof may very well have a closer ending date than I would like.
God knows best.
I trust her in His hands.
I trust her future,
where she'll lay her head,
eat her meals,
and learn to live.
I trust the words spoken to her little ears and the things seen by her little eyes,
I trust it all to God.
I hear from friends of similar situations. Babies raised and quickly gone.
Some to only come back again, others not.
Some with good stories,
others with bad.
but trusting doesn't mean easy,
it doesn't mean things will go as I wish,
or go with no pain.
I cry out... He hears me in my agony.
I fall down... He sees me in my hurt.
I weep... He wipes away my tears.
I ache... He is the balm for my heart.
He is my Healer.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...