Dearest Friends and Family,

I have sat down on several different occasions to write to you all and let you know just how much you have meant to me over the past five months.  However, every time I opened my computer to write I came across the same issue that I have now…words.

What words…  There are no words… There is not a single word in any vocabulary to adequately describe my depth of gratitude for all of the prayers, support, and help that we have received through our 15 week journey leading up to McKinley’s birth and through our subsequent journey down the rocky road of grief and sorrow after her death.

How do you express a sufficient enough “Thanks” to someone who brought food to your family when you were so weak you couldn’t lift your head off of your pillow, or to church members who helped load and unload your kids from your car because you couldn’t lift them, or to family and friends who cleaned your house and folded laundry and watched your kids because you were just trying to stay still and strong enough to keep your baby inside?

How do you find the right words to express your gratitude over a Facebook message or phone text on a day when you didn’t think you could take another step or even wanted to, or when you felt like you couldn’t get out of bed for the pain inside and someone’s short message of, “I’m praying for you right now” gave you the strength to carry on?

How do I find mere words to convey the pain of sitting in a funeral home and picking out a 17 inch casket for our precious angel, a task that I would not wish on my worst enemy, accompanied with the relief of knowing that I didn’t have to worry about giving her a nice burial because of the generosity of loved ones?

There are not words sufficient enough for such a task.

This road that we have to travel due to the loss of our baby girl is a hard one.  Sometimes I feel beat up and battered.  Sometimes I feel like the tears will never subside.  Sometimes I feel like I can’t bear to walk another step.  But it’s on those days… those times when I feel like my spirit has been broken within me that I find strength in your prayers.

The verse that I have claimed since lying in a hospital bed holding my perfect, beautiful daughter for too short of a time was Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” and I begged God for that strength.  I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to let my baby girl go.  I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to bear the loss of this child that I had done everything within my power to save, this baby of mine that had been kicking inside of me only a few hours earlier.  I knew that I wasn’t strong enough but Christ was.  He promises in Hebrews 13:5 that He “will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”   But when I was the one surrounded by the darkness of loss, to be quite honest and transparent, I couldn’t “see” God.  While I was holding my 11 inches of perfection in my arms, watching her breathe her last breath, I didn’t feel Him next to me.  It was in those times, however, that I prayed and cried and begged God for His comfort.  I just wanted to feel His arms around me…to know that everything would be okay…to not feel so hopeless…to not feel so much pain.

It was in that darkness that God’s love shined brightest.  Not in a fire, not in a whirlwind, but in a whisper.  A whisper of love and encouragement, a hug, a phone message saying that you were there for me whenever I needed you, a meal, a plant, a note, a smile that said you were sorry for what I was going through, an ear to listen when I needed to talk or to just allow me to be silent, or the necklace, pictured above, that came when I needed it most.  These were all beautiful expressions of God’s arms around me.  This was God’s love in action.  It was as if through these seemingly small acts I could feel His arms around me and hear Him whisper, “I’m here”.  It was because of your willingness to allow Him to use you that I have been able to start breathing again.  It is because of your prayers that I can read God’s Word and find a comfort that is supernatural and a peace that only He can give.

So I say, thank you, knowing that those two simple words could never capture the breadth of my gratitude or the depth of love.  Each of you will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Georgia