I remember that day, the day I acknowledge the emptiness in my heart. He was gone because of my right to “choose”. I would never be able to smell his sweetness after his morning bath or to hold him close so he could hear that familiar sound, my heartbeat. It was hard to admit that I had taken his life, the life that I was to protect.
Looking at the table and seeing all the candles lit in memory of the children, waves of emotion started to take over. It never gets easier watching the ladies reach for the smaller candle to receive the light from the flame of the larger one (representing Jesus) for their child(ren). Then as they turn to face family and friends, I felt their fear, to admit the secret openly for the first time as the tears well up in their eyes and heart. Some read letters to their little ones, others wrote a poem and one sing a song, a lullaby perhaps, to quiet the pain. As each one of them walked back to their seats, they now had the freedom to love their child(ren) and not the shame that once filled their hearts.
God has placed me in an amazing place despite my rebellion. God reached into my alabaster box removing my will and replaced it with His.
In Memory of the Children