It's been one month to the day since we lost Charlotte. I knew all week that Friday would be four weeks, but I didn't know the date. Steve and I sat down last night to work on this month's budget. I pulled out the calendar as I usually do. I said in tears, "its been four weeks." Steve replied, "its been one month." I glanced at the date on the calendar. Tomorrow is the eighth. A shudder went down my spine. I wasn't prepared to see the number on the calendar.
Sometimes it seems like this past month has flown by and at other times it feels like it has crawled. Still other times and most of the time, it feels like this whole month has been a dream. I remember sitting in the doctors office when we couldn't find Charlotte's heartbeat and the world all around me became fuzzy. The dream began. As Steve and I cried together, we wondered out loud, "how does this happen? Why?" Things like this don't happen to people like us. We are just normal people, striving to please God and raise our family. This is the kind of thing that happens to other people, but not to us. I kept wondering when I would wake up from this dream, no, this nightmare. Now we were faced with this intense hurt and loss and we had to figure out how to live again.
Over the past month, the hurt has lessened, but it still remains. It creeps up on me at unusual times and places. It hits me when I see certain friends or when friends ask how I am doing. I am so grateful for the friends who dare to "enter the danger" to reach out to me, for the ones who ask the hard questions, for the ones who remember Charlotte with me and let me know they miss her too, for the friends who text me and tell me they are still praying for me, for the friends who ask what she looked like and what color her hair was. In asking all these things, they have no idea how I will respond. For that matter, I don't know how I will respond either. They are willing to be there and be open to the fact that they very well may see me fall apart and they still ask. Without the support that I have had this past month I don't know how I would have gotten through the roughest days.
I am blessed beyond belief. Who am I that my King would love me so much as to pour out His love and faithfulness into my life the past month? That He would be so close to me and His presence so evident that I can feel Him carrying me? Who am I that His body, the church, my brothers and sisters, would love me so much as to "enter the danger" and to meet specific need such as meals, laundry and groceries?
I know that as times goes on and as the hurt still remains my God will continue to be faithful, because that is who He is and He doesn't change.