Waves...

Dear Poppy, My English rose, my vibrant red bloom of redemption and rememberance, my tender bud of beauty.. Grief is bittersweet. Sometimes I will be doing something, calm and composed, and the next minute a wave of grief will pick me up, sweep over me, delivering me again back onto sand. Hot tears fall down my cheeks. I feel it in little ways too, when I do a head count out loud, and have to stop at 4.. I find myself whispering "5" and nodding to my heart. And yet, grief has washed me in a new perspective. I saw you yesterday. It was a brief flash of a picture where you were walking through a field. Your dress had a beautiful red cord all around the edge. There was something about your purity and strength that made it seem almost selfish to wish you were here. And last night Jesus gave me a song. "I will carry you". God prompted me to it and I have listened and wept through it many times.. yet something in my grief has significantly changed... ..its like drinking a tonic. A sort of bitter tasting concoction, and without choice. Yet the taste is changing inside me. Every tear I cry, draws me closer to Jesus, every stab of sorrow, echoes the realness of His presence, every longing thought returns to me a hope of eternity. Being with Jesus feels like I get to be with you too. I literally feel like as I walk this road, His hand is in mine.. and I know in His other hand is you. Sometimes I whisper to Jesus "please kiss her nose for me". The tonic has made me feel alive, no, not to this earth, but to Heavens presence. Ive never felt so carried by Jesus as I do now. Sweet Poppy, can I just say how grateful I am to God, for you. I got to carry you for a blink of a moment, but your little life has brought so much sweetness and richness to ours. As I was driving today the Lord spoke to me and said "Fleur, you and Sam have treasure untouchable in heaven". I looked at your sweet daddys face and marvelled at him, as I ran my fingers through his hair. I had never stopped to think how eternity is marked by the beautiful presence of a life, that came from the blessed union of us. And I saw miscarrying you, not as a lossed jewel in our treasure box, but as a pure sparkling diamond, set up there forever. I love you Poppy. Mummy xxxxxxx