Surviving This Day

March 21, 2002 was the last time I saw my dad outside of a hospital bed. 

March 21, 2013 was the last time I heard from "C" at the end of our failed adoption. 

March 21 is a day I have associated with sadness and loss. It's a day I want to spend covered up and isolated. 

But not today. 

A few weeks ago at church, my pastor (who is also my big brother which often makes his words more personal and poignant) spoke of hope. True hope. The hope that comes from giving your life to a Heavenly omniscient loving and perfect father. Hope that overwhelms, hope that renews. 

So that's what I'm choosing today. 

Hope. 

Not sadness. Not grief. Not loss. Hope. 

Hope that the pain in this world is temporary and that life with Jesus is eternal. Hope that He has a plan and no matter what it is, it's better. Hope that because of a shared love of Christ I will be reunited with my earthly dad someday. And hope that our baby, not the baby that we thought was ours, but our baby is still coming. 

We have moved into our new home (hooray!). Today I will carry boxes and buy paint and sing and rejoice that because of Jesus' love and sacrifice - I have hope. 

P.S. I'm writing this from on my phone because we don't have internet at the new house yet. Normal life should resume here soon!