Better

I must say the recent news has got me thinking pink and feeling less blue.  ummm...sorry.  I find myself spending an exorbitant amount of time on sites for ideas for murals and things that I want to fill my girls' room with.  That just made me smile when I typed that.  I'm going to have girls.  :o)


I found this little bunkbed/ playhouse that my brother said he would build for Molly and her sister.

adorable, right?  

I'm excited.  This past week, for the first time in a long time, I'm happy to have something to look forward to.  But I believe there is a danger associated with thinking that just because I am "happy" means I am doing "better."  "Better" seems like this nebulous unattainable word that I imagine I will experience when I come to the conclusion that "my life is better without Josiah," and I can't, and won't let myself think that.  

I know when people ask how I'm doing, they want to hear that word.  But, honestly, I don't know what that means.       

I don't think crying less means I am doing "better;' it just means I'm starting to remember less and less.  Justin said the other day how upset he was that he was starting to forget what Josiah's voice sounded like.  

I don't think "better" means looking forward so much that I don't have time, energy, or the will power to look back.  "Better" is not filling my time with so many thoughts of the baby or Molly that I neglect thinking about God's goodness in the midst of feeling sad for Josiah.  

Maybe "better" means reconciling God's goodness to what seems like His punishment.  Maybe it's seeing His faithfulness when I think His plan for Josiah's life seems void of His presence.  I don't know what God's definition of "better" means, but looking at His word, I know what His definition of goodness is.      

Romans 8:28-29 says...  

   ²⁸ And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. ²⁹ For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.

I know He has a plan.  

For my life, and for Josiah's.  

I know that plan is good.  

And I know what His purpose in that plan is:  for me to be conformed to the image of His Son.  

I know the act of conformation is painful.  

And that's how I know feeling "better" doesn't necessarily equate itself with "goodness."  

Because how do I know Christ?  

Phillipians 3:10-11 says...

 ¹⁰ I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, ¹¹ and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. 

There can be no power in resurrection without death first.

Death to self, death to what I want, death to a dream I once had and must now put into the Hands of the One who made me, who made Josiah, who made Molly, who is making this baby, who is conforming my family into His plan.

Because in the end I will know Him more.  I will love Him more.  And because of this painful road I am walking on in the presence of Suffering, I will see Him more clearly.     

Friends, I can ask for nothing "better" than that.