Three Years

Today is Brianna’s 3rd heavenly birthday. Can’t believe it’s been three years. We took the kids to her graveside this afternoon and then ate cupcakes in Brianna’s honor at Designer Desserts in Valparaiso. This has become our yearly tradition.

One of the most frustrating things about grief right now is that life doesn’t seem to stop long enough to let me do it well (or the way I want to). Life keeps plunging forward as I struggle to put on the brakes. Even today, our visit to the cemetery was only about 5-10 minutes total (the wind was too cold for the kids) and at the bakery Logan and Audrey were climbing on the furniture, talking to other bakery patrons, and spilling crumbs all over the floor. My heart just wanted to scream “Everyone stop! I’m in the middle of reflecting on something here. Give me some time!”

Yet these three little munchkins are gifts as we continue to miss Brianna. Even though I don’t have much undistracted time these days, Logan, Audrey and Emily are God’s way of showing me that He can do more than I could ever ask or imagine. On the way to Brianna’s funeral three years ago, we saw a huge rainbow stretch across the sky. We weren’t sure how or if God would answer our prayer for more children, but through the rainbow He reminded us that He would provide. He heard our cries, answered our prayers, and worked out every detail of building our family. Especially as I hold Emily, whose pregnancy followed such a similar path to Brianna’s, I am reminded that life is a gift and a miracle, not to be taken for granted. I am forever grateful to our sweet Brianna Dawn, for she was the one who taught me what it was to suffer, to come to my knees, and to turn my worry and pain over to the Lord. A priceless gift.

So today, while remaining busy with the blessing of Brianna’s three active siblings, we remember, miss, and cherish Brianna, even if it is done in short, fragmented segments. (I’ve sat down four separate times to write this blog post.) As I look at the pictures of Brianna and see my raw emotions and open grief, I am thankful for the blessing of perspective – for the little girl who forever changed my life and for the many blessings that she left behind, as well as the many blessings that have followed her. I am reminded, amidst the pain of her absence, that I have much and that God is faithful.