𝗦𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻
It’s such a blessing and a curse.
The hard truth is when I look at a picture of my children, I instantly see the one that is missing. It is my broken heart that sometimes has the 20/20 vision, while my regular eyesight takes a backseat. I see the unseen. I see the empty space above MacKenna’s shoulder where Theodore should be leaning over, with his 2.5 year-old chubby arms tangled inside her hair. I see Theodore’s blonde curls that have finally grown-in and made their way over his big toddler ears; I see his untucked matching plaid shirt with the one navy blue suspender strap hanging off. MacKenna should have a brother sitting on her lap 𝘢𝘯𝘥 squeezing around her neck. Grief is “special” like that; it gives humankind the blessing and curse of seeing the unseen.
…Because while I sit quietly this morning with my coffee in-hand, processing another hectic Easter holiday that has come and gone, I also “𝘴𝘦𝘦” the distraught expression on Jesus’ face when he learned of his daunting assignment to save all of humanity. I see the tears rolling down Jesus’ scruffy cheek the night before His brutal crucifixion; He, too, understood fear, anxiety, and all things ‘unfair’. Through the most painful death, came the greatest gift of eternity, and because of that, I see the unseen. I see my Theodore with a whole heart, running; running 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵between both of his Papas who tickle and kiss him every few minutes, until it’s finally my turn again… #TheGiftOfEternity
… join me by #FallingRightSideUp
when life gets turned upside down