I stood outside by myself in the quiet of the morning. Even in my favorite hoodie, the brisk early Autumn air sent chills down my arms, and I remembered. I remembered the two lives that are mine but not with me, and while my heart ached, it swelled with love more. Some days it still aches more, and that's fine, but fewer and fewer knock me flat. I will always ache for their presence but I will heal. I am, healing.
I remembered too the so many who have lost long before me and were made to grieve in silence. I remembered those who even today believe the lie past down that their children were not such and their grief not valid.
I walked and remembered and sipped from my warm cup the reminder of Truth written on its side.
I walked through the fog and gazed over this ground we've been cultivating at our new home. Too late for planting for this season, but will be right on time come Spring. Much like the life currently claiming the sacred space in my womb. I look at the garden and I touch my barely swollen belly, my tiny person bump, and I pray again to hold this one. "Let this person live, Lord." Being filled with the faith that our cultivated crops next year will yield its fruit never takes away the realization of the previous crop, whether abundant or fallen short. But there is faith in the Lord for the crop to come nonetheless. We place our trust in His hands, cultivate with the time we're given, and praise Him, always.