My sweet girl,
I woke up this morning with you on my mind. The highs and lows of sorrow and joy mingling throughout this week have left me weary. I initially began writing these letters when you could hear me read them to you. Now I find myself asking the Lord how much folks in heaven can see and hear what is happening on earth. Does He allow them to have influence on people and events?
Earlier this week, I wanted to check to see if the funeral home had followed through on placing your temporary sign at the cemetery. As soon as I dropped the younger girls off at school and made a quick stop at the store, I drove to your old body’s resting place. I anticipated experiencing a bit of relief upon seeing the sign on your grave. I guess I thought it would bring the pleasure of knowing something was accomplished since the permanent stone won’t be set until spring when the foundation can be poured. I had no clue that simply seeing the marker would cause me to break down sobbing and weeping over the steering wheel.
Oh, Taylor. I miss you.
I don’t miss the suffering your body endured. I don’t miss the slow loss of mind you experienced. I’m happy, so happy that you are healed in heaven and no longer bound by a diseased body. You’re free and whole and this is a beautiful, wonderful thing. But I surely miss the closeness of your spirit that having a body on earth brings.
Earlier today, I was thinking about how important it is that God sent Jesus to be God in the flesh. We needed Jesus to have skin so that we could truly relate to Him. Without a human body, we would have never comprehended the sacrifice of God in the Spirit. As I stared at the mound of dirt piled over your old body, the Ecclesiastes verse echoed, “the dust returns to the ground from which it came, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.” I’m so glad you are with Jesus and happy and in a perfect body, but the emotions over the journey you traveled to get there are still raw. I think it will be that way for a long time.
In the meantime, our family is walking out the journey of grief. I’ve learned so much so far and we’ve only begun. Grief when your grandma went to heaven was difficult. But I hadn’t lived with Mom for years when she graduated. Though I missed her and still do, there’s no comparison to losing you. You can tell her I said that if she doesn’t know. She’ll get tickled about it.
This I know: Your purpose on this planet is not over and your story is to be heard and shared to let folks know that heaven is real, and Jesus loves everyone. One of the most practical ways we could continue to fulfill that purpose is to be good stewards of the supplies and equipment God provided to us for you. We started by contacting Reagan’s mom and dad and asking them about their needs for her. They made it over this week to talk and check out the things you used. It was a HUGE blessing to be able to give them what was yours that we no longer need. It brought a ton of joy to my heart. This is what we must do more of.
I couldn’t help but think that you were looking down and smiling.
I love you. So much.