{Pale Pink Crosses}

Nearly 11 years ago, I was hosting a children’s clothing sale & saw the sweetest little smocked dress.  The gown a gleaming white and the palest pink crosses stitched around the neckline.  I was barely pregnant with my second child but purchased it at the chance that this little one growing in my womb just may be a girl.  A few months later our Annabelle was born and then all too suddenly ripped from my arms into Jesus’.  The darling dress I purchased for her to wear for Easter that prior summer was now just weeks later the precious piece of clothing I would choose for her to sleep in forever.  Sadly, I had walked this road before…at the tender age of 16 when my mother was healed forever…and remembered far more vividly than I wished what those first days held after saying goodbye for now.  Funeral home visits and selecting clothing and shoes and any memorabilia to make that sterile space a little more warm and welcoming as those poured in to see my Glory baby…for many… the first time.  And I knew that gleaming white gown with pale pink crosses was perfect.  Months passed and a dear friend finally worked up the courage to share with me that she had too purchased that dress for her daughter.  Her gorgeous girl had worn it once but every time my friend saw it hanging in her daughter’s closet she thought of my Annabelle.  So, she shared it with me and said that she wanted me to have it to keep.  Just earlier today, I was rummaging through the girls’ closet to find a dress for Ailee James to be dedicated in on Sunday.  This wasn’t something I had given much thought since I have nearly 20 smocked gowns my mother had made for my sister and me and I was pretty certain one of those would work.  But then, in the dark back corner of their closet, I stumbled upon not one…but two…of the gown that my first girl wears while she rests.  Not entirely sure where the other one had even come from {many things my mind has kept from me as a means of protection and this detail is one of those I think} I checked the sizes…remembering that my friend had given me a size 4…one a size 4…and the other…a 2.  Exactly, precisely the sizes of the two daughters The Lord has given.   And then I stood in the closet and wept and gave thanks and grieved and rejoiced.  He gives and takes away and in both He is worthy of all praise.  I stood nearly 10 years ago by her tiny pink satin casket never imagining that the beautiful baby girl I had birthed would ever have two sisters from the other side of the globe…and that somehow…on the day we publicly promise to raise the littlest love to know & love Jesus…that all three of my girls would be dressed alike.  And I am writing this down…sharing it here…as a reminder to myself that in the moments I think for a second that God has forgotten me…He has not.  Oh how He loves us so…