Remembering

7 a.m. April 22. It will always be hallowed ground for me. She's never far from my mind, but it's this special time when I most vividly remember the life that lived briefly inside of me before being swept up to heaven. I love to think of Catherine today. I have irrational pride that a child of mine—my own flesh and blood whose heart once raced inside my core—has taken up residence with the God of the universe. Jesus went ahead to prepare a place for us, a Home that we can only dream of, and Catherine knows all about that place. It's the only home she's ever known. She knows the answers to all the questions that swarm in my mind. She knows love like I'll never know on earth. She knows none of the hurt and sadness her brother and sisters will know all too well. How my tiny little imagination is held captive by the thought of what her life must be like now. 

Having a child who lives with God—even one I didn't know—orients my heart more toward heaven.

Thank you, Catherine. Thank you, God.