I can’t sleep! I have shuffled around the house looking for things to do. My dear husband made scrambled eggs and left the kitchen a scrambled mess! I cleaned up the mess, did some laundry, and ironed a bit. I love to clean, do laundry, and ironing (which may be odd, but I find it therapeutic). I’ve watched The Believer’s Voice of Victory (as I usually do every night at 11:30) with the ever-amazing Kenneth and Gloria Copeland. I am re-reading Hinds’ Feet in High Places but can’t seem to concentrate. Hmm . . . what’s up? I try to pray . . . and all I can say is, “Lord, I miss my daughter.”
My son is asleep. He fills my life in ways I could never describe. He is so sweet and just told me today how lucky he was to have me for a mom. I THINK I’M THE LUCKY ONE! When we are going about the day, our routine, and the busyness of it, I do okay. But when everything is quiet and everyone is asleep, then it becomes obvious . . . something’s missing -- or should I say someone.
“No creature is stirring, not even a mouse” (I hope!). Everyone is where they should be: son in bed, husband in bed, cat in bed beside son, and all four dogs in bed! I walked down the hall, and looked into Ashton’s room . . . her empty room. I don’t know why I chose to torture myself this way! I turned on the light and looked at her bed that was made but she wasn’t in it. How many nights did I watch she and her brother as they slept? From those nervous first nights when I had to make sure they were still breathing, to the ones where they had been sick and looked so pitiful, or the ones where they looked like angels so peacefully unaware and innocent. I just sighed and stared at that empty bed. No little girl with her stuffed bear, no teenager with her cell phone inches away and the TV still on, not even the college girl home for a visit. I gazed around her room where she had crates packed with all of her high school memorabilia. She had decided that it was time to put all of those things away so her walls are bare, the shelves cleared out leaving just a few necessities here and there. Yes, something’s definitely missing.
I started to get choked up and turned around to leave. Did God feel this way when His Son left to fulfill His purpose on the earth? I get that this is a part of life that we, as parents, can’t avoid. I am happy that she is well on her way to fulfilling God’s design and purpose for her adult life (really I promise!), and I have peace in this time, as well. I just miss my daughter - plain and simple. I decided to shuffle back to my room, get under the covers, and contemplate. My choices were: never come out from under the covers, try to go to sleep, cry quietly (although loud wailing wouldn’t wake my husband up!), or I could meditate on the Lord. Well, I chose the latter, and He came to me in His faithfulness, as always. He saw me and felt my sadness and longing so, of course, He was there. “Although something is missing and someone is missing . . . I AM NEVER MISSING.” Wow, I know that He is always with us but I never looked at it as He is never missing. He is never absent from us, our situations, and our needs. It’s a completely different perspective for me but it continues to emphasize the boundless love of our Heavenly Father. Well, this was too good to keep to myself, so I had to write about it. I grabbed my laptop, started to type, and realized I was still missing Ashton, but I knew I wasn’t alone, and nothing now . . . was missing.
