Three weeks now since we met Cora. I still remember the mystery, the sadness, the surreal nature of that night and early morning.
Then there she was in my arms, fresh and beautiful, but ever so limp and quiet. I try to imagine what her cry would have sounded like, what it would have been like to feel her body move and wiggle, protesting her exit from the warmth and comfort of my body. I struggle even to remember those moments with M's birth, let alone picture what they could have been like with Cora.
I wish Cora could have seen her big brother. He knows that she's missing, that she's not in my tummy anymore. We tried to explain Cora's burial to him, that her body stays here and goes down into the ground but that her spirit has gone to be with Jesus. I don't know how much he really understands, but he doesn't seem troubled by it.
Last night I was thinking about Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." Losing Cora has made me question my understanding of this verse. Is God only promising to take care of my soul, or does he promise things for this life, too? Are God's definitions of good, prosper and harm the same as my definitions, or have I misunderstood His promises and intentions?
I don't know where to begin answering these questions, but I felt like last night God was simply asking me to accept this verse as a reflection of His heart toward me. To accept that no matter what happens in my life, God feels this way about me. And nothing can happen that would separate me from God's love for me or change His heart toward me. When I go to that place of deep, deep love, there is no room for the question of WHY to even be asked. Perhaps there isn't even an answer at all to that question, or perhaps it's just that in the light of His love, my heart is so satisfied that I don't even care to ask anymore.
