Breathe You In

Dear Ones,

As I type this you are all playing in the nooks and crannies of this place we call home, all except for your baby brother, who is off in dreamland in the other room. I find myself counting the four of you, over and over again, making sure you are all safe and accounted for, even though there is no reason for me to believe otherwise. I'm not letting you out of my sight. At least not for today.

Today I am reminded of the fragility of our lives. Of your lives. How there is no guarantee that when I send you off into this world you will be able to find your way back home again to me when the day is done. My lips are drawn to the tops of your heads. My arms cannot be filled with your tiny bodies for long enough, or hold them tight enough. I find myself staring at you, wondering that you are here, wondering that you are mine, wondering how long I get to keep you close. I hold you next to my heart and I breathe your breath in as you breathe out, as if I can somehow keep all of us here if I just continue this cycle. Breathe you in, breathe you in, breathe you in... your breath filling up and energizing the cells in my body, promising me that no matter what happens you will always be a part of me in the most fundamental and essential way. Letting myself believe that this act alone will be enough to keep all of us always alive, always intertwined.
It is impossible today not to think about what my life would be like without you in it. Not to think about if I were to wake up and you were not a part of my tomorrow, or my next Christmas, or my ten years from now.
Today your Momma's heart is so heavy for little lives lost, lives so reminiscent of your own. I am burdened with visions of the mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters these children left behind, and for their future that must seem so empty and full of despair. Hope seems distant, peace not possible. Fear is everywhere, and threatening to eclipse any small pocket of innocence that has managed to survive yesterdays events.
But then (but then!), my loves, smack dab in the middle of my pain, I remember Him. I remember my Jesus. Your Jesus. I see His face. And in His compassion for this troubled heart He allows your Momma a glimpse of His almighty and total power. His power over death, His victory over these graves. And just that one small glimpse is all it takes to remind me of the awesome God we serve. This God who is not only ruler over heaven and earth but also this God who is love, who is gentleness, who is life, who is the opposite of everything the world gave us yesterday and wants us to believe is the most of what we have left. And this God, our Jesus, fills me with the assurance that He is here. He walks this pain with us. And in that assurance there is peace that when I am afraid, and when I lose hope, and when I feel I can't take this broken world for even one minute more He has never lost sight of me but is close, so close, so close I can breathe Him in, breathe Him in, breathe Him in... His breath filling me up with everything that is pure, and sacred, and true.
So tonight, when I tuck you into your beds, there is bound to be great sadness as I think of other mommas who are longing for just one more night to do the same. And I will pray over you and pray for you and pray with you, and just pray and pray and pray. I will pray that I get to keep you here with me for so much longer. I will pray that you will learn to look up and find your Jesus when this world fails you. I will pray for protection over you in both body and soul. And along with all those prayers I will also pray thankful. Thankful that no matter what happens, even if the worst would find us, I am guaranteed life with you for always and forever because of the One who made you, and who made me, and who gave His own life so that no death need ever be the end. And then while you sleep peaceful I will breathe you in again, resting in the promise that you are here, you are mine, and we are His, alive and intertwined for always in both this life and the next.
Sleep tight, dear ones. Angels over you tonight.
Love,
Momma

             Eliza, Kindergarten.