i've stayed busy today.

Do you know that amos lee song, "colors"? the chorus says "when you're gone, all the colors fade", and i have resonated with that the last few days. My attention is not easily held by anything, except maybe facebook and blogs. Books, movies, eating... not so much. (I do eat though; don't worry mom.) 

But today i have been consumed with figuring out how to make a blog look pretty (thanks Justin for helping me out). And now that i am somewhat satisfied with how it looks, i will write. 

This morning i had a picture in my mind of a baby sleeping on a big bed, surrounded by pillows. You know how we make those cushy barriers to keep the baby from falling? I was picturing the Holy Spirit doing that for us, and how He has cushioned us in, preparing us for this journey. Examples: I started going to a bible study on Heaven this fall. Recently I had asked the Lord what my cross to bear was... i know now. We had finally been able to spend more time at church, building relationships - and when last week hit, our church family knew us and have loved on us well. He placed us in a community of believers at Camp Eagle who also carry our hearts. Our birth class instructor spent a good portion one night going over what happens during a c-section, and also had us "create" our birth plans and smash them, to remind us that what we get will most likely not be what we imagined. Our pastor has been preaching through Colossians, and both of us have loved learning what it means to truly rejoice in salvation.

And this morning I pictured the Spirit preparing us, saying things like "This will hurt them in this way... i will put another pillow here. Or pad them with more community here. Or put this scripture on their hearts to remind them of Truth when they hurt." I'm thankful for the tenderness of the Spirit in His preparation. 

Of course, the flip side of that is that the same Lord that was preparing us for grief could also have changed everything and allowed Gwen to live. But I am not God, and arguing with Him (at this point) is just not helpful to me. So while i continue to cry out, "WHY!?" with many tears and sobs, I know that He does not need to explain Himself to me. He can and is still Good, even with His mysteriousness. 

(I just thought of those lines from C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, where Lucy is discussing Aslan with Beaver... she asks if he's safe, and the the Beaver responds, "Safe? Who said anything about 'safe'? 'Course he isn't safe. But He's good. He's the King, I tell you.")

Also, the tests results were inconclusive. There were a few factors that when maybe put all together could possibly be a reason she didn't survive, but she couldn't say for sure. I feel okay with this. 

Tonight is a chili cook-off and pumpkin carving at camp. I'm anticipating good friends and good hugs, with moments of sadness weaving through it all. I so wanted my little pumpkin baby to be here for this.