I went for a walk that evening, the first in a long time like the ones I used to take. No wagons or chatter, just me and my littlest babe wrapped snug against my front. It was the best time of day to take a walk, that golden hour when people start to turn on their lights but haven't yet closed the blinds. I walked at a relaxed pace, got landscaping ideas, watched the clouds change colors as the sun set somewhere behind the houses. God only knows how many times I put my lips to Selah's soft dark crown, her sweet scent simultaneously lifting me above and reminding me of the sad news all around me that was weighing on my spirit. I struggle with how to even write about my processing of friends with serious illnesses, people losing babies, struggles and tragedies so beyond my realm of understanding or comprehension... my own heaviness around these crises is undeniably insignificant in light of those experiencing them, and I feel like I have no right to talk about it. And yet, I can not pretend to be unaffected, unbroken by the hurt swirling around the world so close to me.

I pride myself on being an irrepressible optimist, but I can't think my way out of the sadness, and it's not even mine.

I was up half a dozen times that night of my own accord, or that of my restless mind, I guess. I stumbled up and out of bed each time and listened for Selah's breathing in the hallway, just to get back in bed and worry a little more about what I KNOW I can not control. This isn't something I usually have a problem with, this surrendering to God's power and authority. I've even SOUGHT the freedom that comes with letting someone else be the responsible party. But these are my BABIES. And even though the control was never mine to begin with, the helplessness and impotence to keep my children breathing, skin warm and chests moving makes me inwardly frantic to grasp at it anyway.

I don't have any answers, any grand revelations or solutions, just the Word of God that tells me that He works all things for the good of those who love Him, that His ways are above my ways, and that I will not understand everything this side of heaven. I'm not promised tomorrow, but I'm given this moment. Kiss the babies and trust, then trust, and work on trusting more.