I'm constantly blown away by what can be the smallest of triggers. This morning on the way to take Ayla to school I was flipping stations trying to find music and when I got to one particular station a Keith Urban song was playing and these lyrics just caught my attention:
"They'll be days
your heart don't wanna beat
you pray more than you breathe
and you just want to fall to pieces
and nights with 2 am calls
where dreams become walls
and you just need a break
Break on me
shatter like glass
shatter like glass
come apart in my hands
take as long as it takes
girl break on me"
Those words immediately took me back to my pregnancy with Ayla and how many times I did break. My faith often felt shattered and nonexistent, but it was also a key factor in getting me through that pregnancy. When I broke - I broke on Him. I'm not saying it was always a perfect and harmonious, pregnancy because it wasn't. Quite the opposite actually. The devil was able to get into my head and give me thoughts that no expecting mother should have on more occasions than I'd like to recall, but when he did I turned to my mighty God who let me bend and break, but who also put my back together and brought me through those deep, dark times.
The thoughts of my pregnancy then made me think of why my pregnancy was as hard as it was. Some call it post traumatic stress, I call it fear - plain and simple - because of what I had already lost. Her. Its no secret that every single day I miss her, but some days are easier than others. Today was not by any means one of the hardest, but for the first time in a very long time I missed her so much that my car just seemed to drive itself to her resting place this morning. After I dropped Ayla off & got a quick little jog in, I listened to a few songs{intentionally} that reminded me of both of my girls. Then I listened to Shane and Shane "Though You Slay Me" over and over again - as I usually do when I just feel like I need to hear that message. By the time I got close to where we live (30 minutes away from Ayla's school) the time came to make the turn to go to our house. By this time my eyes had already filled with tears that had made their way down my cheek and I just couldn't turn. Instead, I kept going straight - to the cemetery. My mind told me to go get her new flowers before going to her grave so I could take them to Granny to put together, but it was like my hands wouldn't let me make any turn that didn't lead to her.
When I got to her grave the wind was blowing and it was freezing. The minute I got there I sat beside her and started the song "Though You Slay Me" over again and set it on one of her stones. I started cleaning her grave a little and told her how much I miss her. And then, I just stopped. I stared at her headstone and I stopped crying. I didn't stay long, but I didn't feel like I needed to.
The more I think about the events of this morning and being at her grave, the more I believe that Sloan was telling me that she misses me too. As sad as I get sometimes when I think of her, these little "triggers" make me happy at the same time - because they help me to feel, heal, and keep her sweet memory alive. Her life was far from meaningless and deserves to be remembered.
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
2 Cor 4:16-18
