Saturday, October 31, 2009


I have come to think of Caden's death not as the moment my life revolves around (as I did for such a long time) but as the moment where God forever changed my perspective and understanding about my life.

I know I have mentioned it so often before, but since her death I long deeply for Heaven...for the day that pain and hurt and the loss of her is no more. I long for what my heart aches for. Most days it is her...simply her. Other days it is rest, some days it is a desire for days without worry, without uncertainty...still others it is a desire without a name...a desire for Jesus I suppose, for an end to this hindered, encumbered, half-life we lead in a sinful, decaying world.

I remember when I was pregnant with Rigg wondering how I was going to do it. Love one baby and miss another. How would I carry the baton of two such separate emotions and the banner of two such separate identities. A mother of a precious son, the mother of a lost daughter. How do you carry on? How do you keep her memory alive, how do I rejoice and grieve at the same the same the same moment?

I have come to realize that life, all of life, is like a puzzle.
I remember a couple of years ago trying to put together this ridiculous puzzle of nothing but flowers. All pink flowers and green leaves. I am not sure I ever finished. I do remember multiple times looking at a piece, thinking it would never fit, and then, SNAP, there was me, staring in amazement that it did, in fact, fit.
The pink petals and green leaves were so intertwined that the edge of one pink piece fit in perfectly with the edge of a green piece. Overlapping and connecting to form the picture.

God has fit my grief pieces perfectly together with my rejoicing pieces. I was thinking of this today while I was crying over Caden. Missing her today brought the ache and the tears. I was holding my son, calming him before I put him down for a nap and he started giggling. And while the tears were still wet and running down my face, I felt joy.

SNAP. They fit perfectly. I felt them both in the same instant. Grief. Joy. And I am sure in Gods sight, it makes a whole picture.

I came across a song and a video most of you have probably seen and/or heard. It sings the song of my heart. And at the same time reminds me I am just one of many. Who have lost a daughter, a child, a future, a dream. One of many who suffer and await the day Christ welcomes us home.

This world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through.
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.


Renee said...

Our God is an Awesome God!!

Lindsay said...

Thank you for writing this. You were able to put into words so much of what I've been struggling with and feeling lately. You've been an encouragement to me...please know that.

I like to believe that Ayden and Caden have met in heaven...and have discussed how their names rhyme. Very often when his name runs through my mind (which is nearly every second of every day), I think of Caden simply because of the similarities in their names. It makes me smile to think of the two of them there, together.

Take care...


Bethany said...

Many, many months ago God gave me this picture as I was trying to pray for you. It wasn't long after I learned you were pregnant again. I couldn't imagine such joy and such pain. I couldn't imagine how you would juggle it. I couldn't understand how to pray for you. God reminded me in that moment that I was praying to a High Priest who did understand, who could sympathize. In the moment He lost His one and only Son, He forever gained His children. The love of a Father that chose to grieve so He could rejoice amazes and humbles me.

Doug and I will continue to hold you up to the One who does know, even though we do not. The One who can understand. And the only One who can make your family whole again.

Gretchen said...

Well said Cari

Anonymous said...

Again, you amaze me with your ability to see THRU your grief and hold onto your faith that you will one day see your precious Caden again. But, for now, you have a beautful (and I mean cute to the max!) son to raise. It will get better Cari.
PS - Bethany, I loved your analogy. It was perfect.