Only a few months ago
I would have avoided the blogging world today.
It's a day where most people post pictures
of their children holding baskets,
hunting for eggs, you know, doing Easter things.
Pictures that would poke at the hollow inside me.
A year ago, this past weekend, was much different.
I was on the couch.
Sympathy flowers surrounded me.
I was emotionally raw. I was tired. I was heart broken.
I slept through most all of general conference.
And I love general conference.
I love the words of peace, of hope, of love.
The words of God, which health the wounded soul.
Shortly after, I received this little lamb
for the baby I had lost.
I thought it was unintentionally inspired that this year,
at about the same time, our home teacher
would think to give us this:
Another little lamb.
It brought back the memories,
and made me think of the baby I lost,
and the baby I carry now.
It made me think of life and death and life again.
Of hope in good things to come.
Of the perfect love of our Savior.
He (or more likely, his wife) probably just thought
it was a cute stuffed animal and a symbol of Easter.
Which it is, only how was she to know just how
personal that particular symbol, a little stuffed lamb,
could be for me?
This weekend, cuddled on the couch with Hubby,
watching the Prophet and Apostles speak,
I felt renewed hope.
I felt lifted.
I felt His love.
What a wonderful weekend.