“When you don’t recognize the value of what you have in your hands, you will always get from it far less than it is worth.” -Levi Lusko, Through the Eyes of a Lion
When I read this quote, I started to question what kind of “value” there is to losing a child. It seems wrong to put value on loss. But through the last six months, I have been able to see gifts that have only come from Sadie, and it is definitely of value.
The gift that Sadie has given me:
Knowing Heaven is Home, I will live for Him while being ME.
Heaven IS Home
“The more we think about the next world, the more effective we become in this world.”
-Dr. Robert Jeffers
Sadie has enabled me to see a piece of Heaven. When she passed, and we were in the hospital room holding her lifeless body, I was able to feel a direct connection to Heaven- I was holding her body, yet her spirit is in Heaven. Time stops, and for a moment I saw her there.
A few months ago, my mom said the same thing... She said that holding Sadie was the closest she’s ever felt to Heaven; there’s something special about that.
My investment in Heaven is now worth even more.
Live for HIM
Sadie has given me the gift of deeper faith. My trust has strengthened, and my HOPE is amplified. We are not promised anything in life, so what do you do with the “now?” I am choosing to continue to keep my eyes on Him, and do whatever I can to honor Sadie while giving God the glory. Because He lives, I can still live too. He knows my pain, and He loves me. So, I keep moving forward knowing that this is for His kingdom; it’s not for this world.
Sadie has shown me that this is NOT the life to live for. We need to live for our eternal life.
For those that know me, I am a people pleaser. I would put my feelings, emotions, and pain on the back-burner to make someone else pleased with me. In Sadie’s passing, I stopped doing this. I will still do anything I can for anyone as long as I don’t jeopardize myself- this is something I should have done a long time ago. I don’t put this out here lightly, it has been something that’s been hard for me. I have had to listen to my heart/pain and done what’s best for me and my family.
If I need to put 125 essays away so I can be home with the boys and Trent, then I will do that; ask any English teacher, those essays aren’t going anywhere (unfortunately). ;)
Telling someone I’m sorry, I can’t do that because I need to protect myself is something I find myself being “okay” with doing.
Realizing I need to be healthy- emotionally, mentally, and physically- in order to be the best version of me does require me to say no. If people don’t understand, or they get upset, it just doesn’t bother me anymore. Trent has been awesome at helping me see this too. I need to take care of myself for me.
These may seem simple to most, but these certain gifts are special to me, I give her the credit. I would trade all of these to have her back, but again, I’m still left in the same place. So, I choose to be grateful for the gifts she has given me. These will last a lifetime.
Sadie was my 30th birthday gift, but she gave me more than I could have ever given her.
If God allows you to peek down on Earth, I hope you see all the good things that have happened in your name. I hope you see the 60+ HOPE bags that are being sent out in your memory, and I hope you see the people who are being led to Christ or deepening their relationship in Him through your HOMEcoming.
I hope when you look down, you see that Michael and Cole love you more now than ever. They still hurt, but they talk about you all the time and you live on in both of them . I hope you see yourself in our home because the love we have for you is still so alive. You are with the boys, me, daddy, and in our house 24/7.
I hope when you look down on your daddy you see how much he’s changing lives. I hope you see the physical and invisible pink S’s on all the things he touches here. I hope you see the love he has for you and how it shines onto others he’s helping each and every day.
You fuel him, sweet girl.
I hope when you look down on me, you’re proud. I hope you are proud to call me mommy, and I hope you’re proud of all I’m trying to do to show others the strength that we find is in Christ alone. You took a piece of my heart when you left, but I know I will get it back one day when I see you again. I love you more than you know, Sis.
I hope that when you see the four of us together, whether we’re laughing or crying, talking about you or quiet in thought, we know you are there-- we feel you. Even though I wasn’t able to see you in a tutu or cheerleading uniform, I know you’re our biggest cheerleader for the rest of our lives.
Happy 3rd birthday, Sis. We love you beyond the words we express.
Until we meet again...
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”