Tonight while giving the girls a bath after a long day of general tomfoolery and birthday party planning, I totally broke down. My Story by Big Daddy Weave came on the radio and I found myself crying uncontrollably. I mean serious, ugly crying. The girls immediately jumped out and calmed my heart with a group hug, but the line "you would hear of hope that wouldn't let go" got me. Here I was, the day before my Veve's party, thinking of how blessed I am to get to plan and have her with me, and how sweet Reece never got his fifth birthday party. I've been especially struggling with this this week. I find myself comparing Reece to Vera and it just hurts my heart in ways I can't adequately explain. Five is so young, and I am so thankful for every day I get to spend with my girls. I get to hold them, play and read with them, an endless list of daily life. I cannot fathom my life, my heart, without them. And then I cry again for the little boy who I think should be doing the same with his mom. I remember Reece daily, and think of him when I am happiest and with the girls. I will stand firm on "the hope that wouldn't let go" and know that I will see him again, someday.

"If I should speak, then let it be of the grace that is greater than all my sin.
Of when justice was served, and where mercy wins!
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
To tell you my story, is to tell of Him
If I told you my story, you would hear victory over the enemy
If I told you my story, you would hear freedom that was won for me
and if I told you my story, you would hear Life overcome the grave" Big Daddy Weave.