Thought of you today.

Opened the book and your photo fell out,

And there you were–eating pizza in sunshine–

On my lap, the place your head once rested

When you were still mine.

Before the split, when you were taken one way

While I continued to walk another,

That path I’d planned for Us,

Now void of you.

Not what we chose

But, rather, that which was chosen for us.

We tried to make the best of things,

I suppose.

And, as with all Life’s thoroughfares,

There were bumps and ruts and obstacles to overcome.

But never think for a moment, Girl,

That I didn’t keep watch–

The vigilant witness of an imperfect pray-er,

Who, upon whispering or wailing your name,

Saw your face, heard your voice, and remembered.

Remember still, my Ebenezer–

That place built, not by my feeble hands,

But by grace, and was offered me.

An altar–

That I might lay you down…

Then walk away.

Observe from a distance,


Even if only in the mind’s eye of petition.

That safest of harbors

Our heavenly Father

Created from the hard rock of anger.

A place where Abba could handle my flailing fists,

Make something good from broken

By holding me, His baby,

And assuring, “Daddy understands the loss of a Child,”

Until I no longer questioned.

The stones of my anger He took bit by bit

And, mercy His mortar, built that place

Hewn from my lament,

Where I could lay you down.

And I think–

Have thought often–

Of Abraham who, too, faced

An altar.

What of those moments between the laying down of Isaac

And that father’s lingering knife?

When the words must have hung, too, on fleshly lips that quivered,

“Why?” and “How?”

But, by faith, all this abba uttered was a silent resolve,

“Yes, Lord.”

And the miracle.

It took me so long to say the same,

I won’t even lie.

Instead, I shook my fists ’til I fell asleep

And awoke to the bad dream too many

Mornings to count…

Until the bad dream was a sad dream…

Was a bittersweet dream…

That’s now, a miracle sweet dream

In a haven,

In an ash-heap–

Where I dance joy

And go out peace…

With a picture of you on my lap

And the memories of pizza in sunshine

That lead to a prayer

Of thankfulness

And finally,


Full surrender



*** Kristie Miller was a part of our lives from 2006-Aug. 2007. Although her adoption was never finalized, she was my Girl. The pain that we experienced when she left was purposeful, in that it taught me more about God’s presence in loss, gave me a deeper empathy for others, and grew my faith. God is good all the time …

What things have you had to surrender–lay upon the altar and trust God’s plan, even in pain?