How it used to be

Happy shrieks of laughter, horrific arguments, and Anna yelling from being tormented. A sweet little girl finding her momma in the inn kitchen in the morning, calling her daddy on his phone for breakfast, wanting to be rocked all by herself while the others were still sleeping. Two little girls clamoring for Daddy's attention, two little girls running out the door to go with Daddy on a delivery, two little girls riding a dirtbike with their Daddy. The sounds of four little feet running through the house, two little girls eating supper, two little girls getting a bath, two little girls planning to wear look alike pj's, two little girls listening to stories. One little girl falling asleep during prayer, relaxed in her daddy's arms(at least some nights). Her older sister takes a long time to fall asleep - but she is out like the lamp. Two little girls laying in bed fast asleep, the shrieks of laughter are turned into dreamy thoughts and the horrific arguments are forgotten. A momma and daddy tiptoe in when weary eyes are closed-smile thankfully and turn out the light. Now, if we can just convince the baby to sleep yet, peace will be ours for a few hours. Later they come back again and smile, seeing three little girls sleeping blissfully.

These are scenes of the past for us. Scenes we enjoyed and loved. Times we treasure-moments we lived that will never be back to the same. Instead, one five year old who feels lost and lonely. One little girl playing by herself, occasional shrieks of laughter from a five year old and a baby trying to play together, but few arguments to solve. One little girl to read stories to, pray with, and try to persuade to go to sleep in her big empty bed. Momma and Daddy tiptoe in to turn off the light and there is one little girl in bed and a baby in the crib. Later, they tiptoe in again and smile thanking God for two precious little girls but dreadfully missing the third. We again cry out to God in our pain desperately needing His grace to sleep another night, live another day. Inside we feel like knocking on Heaven's gate, asking for answers that we can't find here. In our frailty we remember that when we do get to heaven's gate-the questions of this pain filled earth won't matter anymore. What will matter is that we lived the way God called us to live with our whole hearts.

Marlea's cousin spent a night and day here last week. When she left Marlea and I cried and cried. It was just a touch of how it used to be and then she left. The pain was unbearable for both of us. Trying to understand pain is difficult and yet so simple for a five year old. At the table the other morning Marlea said: "Mommy, how did Kira sound when she talked to her doll?" We both sat in silence looking at our plates trying to remember. Neither of us could and the pain was so intense. Wanting to remember so badly and yet we couldn't. Pray that our minds would be filled with clear simple memories. We passed the three month mark this month.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea and Anna