Dust to Dust

Last night I started looking at pictures of Titus from when he was born and for the first time felt like I just wanted to freeze today and keep him as my little baby forever. He was already in bed for the night and it took everything that was in me not to go and pick him up out of his crib and hold him close in hopes that maybe we would just melt together and I could love him even more than I already do.

Thinking about how fast he has grown has really made me aware of all that my Postpartum Depression stole from me. When I look at Titus now I frequently hold back tears because I just feel so ridiculously blessed when he's in my arms. I never felt like that when he was born, if anything, I resented him and there was more than one dark moment where I vividly remember wishing (in secret) that I hadn't even had a baby. I would hold him and nurse him and instead of feeling lucky I felt burdened. All I wanted was for him to exist independent of me because if I could just not be responsible for him then my heart and mind would go back to normal. Of course, that was all the PPD talking and was completely irrational. 
As I looked through those first pictures of him when we came home from the hospital I wept from all the love I withheld from my sweet boy for those first 6-7 weeks. And it was never intentional, i just didn't even know how to foster that love; it seemed like all I was capable of feeling was the numbness. Titus will never remember whether I took care of him those first few weeks out of duty or adoration, but I will always remember the exact day the fog started to lift and I could not stop kissing his little cheeks. It was like I was swimming to the surface and finally got close enough for the sun to begin taking shape. From that moment on my heart started to carve out a space big enough for this tiny baby which has only continued to grow as the days go by.

I had to stop looking at pictures and pray to the Lord to remove my regret and sorrow. I know that you can't predict or prevent PPD, but I still felt horrible for ever having missed out on a single hour of joy with my son-hours that felt wasted because I could never go back to when he was that little and relish the moment when all he wanted was for his mommy to hold him all day long. As I prayed I was reminded that of course I felt brokenness and hurt over Titus changing and growing up. The things of this world never stay the same and we will always experience sorrow as long as we are here because the world is corrupt and we are mortal. Yet no matter how many days and years pass that we cannot retrieve, there is always one thing that stands alone in its ability to evade the passing of time, and that is the promise of an eternal joy through Christ.

There will come a day as I get older where I will begin to frequent more funerals than weddings. Morbid, I know, but truthful all the same. Still, I am reassured that this difficult life is only as long as a single breath of air compared to the time I will spend with my Savior when I leave this earth.
There is an old hymn that my mom used to sing to me when I was little, Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus. Back then the words didn't make any sense to me, but now each line is filled with a bittersweet comfort that wraps around me; a warm sleepiness like cozying up in a favorite quilt on a cold winter night.


The chorus:
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

So tonight I rest in Christ, knowing that heartache is inevitable and peace is only found in Him. My prayer is not that I would have an endless amount of moments on this earth with the ones I love, but that the ones I love would experience one grace-filled moment with the One who first loved them.