Shay and I were hesitant to say it aloud for a while, but crying about Kyler and talking about him can sometimes feel kind of odd.
Like, we want to talk about him, but there's only so much you can say. The sucky thing is, truly, we don't know much about him. It's weird missing someone you don't have memories with. Yes, I got to know him in the womb. But that's not the same.
So there's been this forced feeling when we want to talk about him, to express that he's on our minds, that we still remember our days were going to look different than they do now... but what do you say?
I have legitimately been crying and stopped to wonder what exactly I was crying about.
We've talked plenty about how cute he was. Ugh, so chunky.
We've talked about how active he seemed to be while growing.
We've talked about that dark hair we want to see again.
But honestly, we mostly talk about all these things that never happened, such as:
Ky sitting with legs outstretched and flipping pages in his baby Bible in one armchair, while Shay reads his in the other, both waiting on me to get up.
The same chunky legs running around the backyard chasing Ky's bunny.
Shay teaching him to vacuum with his little toy vacuum- to instill love of cleaning, of course. (I really wonder if that child wouldn't been a mess like me, though).
Figuring out how bathtime worked in that little frog seat we got. Lots of dreams about using the bath setup I made.
You get it. Lots of dreams. Really, that's what the tears are for-- lost dreams. Sometimes I cry at the thought of him suffering, but mostly for all the "could've been"s.
Maybe those specific dreams are lost, but they serve to remind me to appreciate the present instead of only looking to future plans. As you've heard... you aren't guaranteed future time anyway. In this moment, I even appreciate the fact that I got to have Kyler at all.
Mitchell reminded me that, though I kept saying each day was one farther from remembering Ky and reveling in those dreams for him, it's also one day closer to all the real dreams that are sure to come to pass. So we keep moving forward to the promises we have for life with God and His people forever. That's way more than a cute dream.
Most of the time now, when I think of that stinkin' cute boy that should be giggling (or screaming) through bathtime, those thoughts then lead to what I know will be.
And now, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will be with the Lord forever. 1 Thess. 4
We will be with the Lord forever and, though we don't know for sure what heaven will look and feel like, we KNOW it's where we were meant to and want to be. It's what our souls were made for- I'm convinced it's what that achy, unjust feeling means when we see something "unfair" or "not how it's supposed to be". Will Kyler be there? I sure hope so. Quite honestly, I believe so. See that post on "heaven's gain" for all my rambling thoughts on that one. (https://stephcrawford.wixsite.com/kyler/the-days-to-follow/heaven-s-gain)
But we have a junk ton of promises we can rely on, a hope that is based on assurance. And that is quite an anchor for the soul ("We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and steadfast." Hebrews 6:19). I've got more of a desire for heaven and less of a fear of death than I had before. Thank you, God, for being in the midst of this, for knowing my sadness of 'lost dreams', and giving me a hunger for these future dreams that are sure to be fulfilled.
See ya soon, little buddy.
