6 months.

It's been 6 months since this beautiful girl graced us with her presence for a few hours on this earth. 

It feels like a thousand years ago.  It feels like yesterday.  

It hurts. It's painful.  It's sad. It's beautiful. 

  It feels hard.  It feels terrible.  It feels normal. 

I am full of grief.  I am full of sorrow.  I am full of peace.  I am full of love.

I am angry.  I am devastated.  I am hopeful.  I am grateful. 

Time stands still and time moves on.  

I feel so many things at any given time that it's so hard to describe the past 6 months. 

I can move forward and backwards all at once.  I want to hold on so tight to the past and move on to a hopeful future. 

 Life feels different.  Life feels normal.

It's hard and messy and many, many times I think, why me?

But it's turning out to be somewhat lovely and painfully beautiful

because I continue to see Christ in all of it.

Psalm 139

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.

You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.

You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.

 Where shall I go from your Spirit?
    Or where shall I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
    If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! 

 If I take the wings of the morning
    and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me. 

 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”

even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.

 For you formed my inward parts;
    you knitted me together in my mother's womb. 

 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well. 

 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth. 

 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them.