I knew it would be hard and as much as the quiet is sightly nice and the chaos is slightly less the void is evident. I knew I would get attached but I didn't think about how that precious 2 year old was leaving without any idea that she wasn't coming back.
Back to the house with the giant water slide, where she would wake up from a nap, look out the window and would squeal with delight to see her bubbas and sissy's playing on it. You couldn't get the water diaper on her fast enough.
Back to the house with the 4 big siblings who loved her with such grace and love. More so than I was able to at times.
Back to the house with the "go", where Jojo would give her rides and take her on dates in his green sand dune car.
Back to the house with snow cones and ice cream.
Back to the house with the frozen blanket that she carried around everywhere and was always wrapped up in.
Back to the house that goes to the library. Where she sang and danced and squealed and laughed and smiled that sweet smile that lights up a room.
Back to the house where she woke up every morning and drank coffee with Dylan (dad) in the kitchen.
She just isn't coming back.
I pray with everything in me that she knows deep in her little heart and mind that we loved her fiercely. Even on the days it was hard we loved her. I pray that where she is going that there are people that will continue to speak truth into her life. That God will place people in their path who will teach them about Him.
So we kissed them goodbye, consoled our sobbing children, prayed, and now we prepare for the next ones. The calls are already coming. Two since they left. We are taking a break. Everything in us wants to save them all, wants to say yes. With 4 kids we have to just be still for a while. Let them recover and let us recover.
"Always be joyful, never stop praying, give thanks no matter what happens." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-17.
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