I miss her everyday, but some days the depth of the missing hits me unexpectedly, and this is one of those days.
I don't miss my baby anymore. I miss the girl she would have been today.
I miss the noise she would have made arguing with her sister or picking on her brother.
I miss her artwork that would have covered the refrigerator.
I miss the fun she would have had in Vacation Bible School last week.
I miss the books she would be figuring out how to read.
I miss teaching her to ride a bike.
I miss telling her to mind her manners and to finish her broccoli.
I miss tucking her in bed and kissing her goodnight and telling her no more stories, time to go to sleep.
I've missed every moment of her life for the last seven years.
And I hate that. I want those years back, and I know that's impossible, and the knowledge of that, and the fact that I will miss her for the rest of my life, just hurts my heart.
I know that God redeems all our hurts. In the deepest place in my heart, I know that. I know that God is sovereign and loving. I know that I will have all of eternity with my Savior and with my daughter and her other siblings in Heaven. And that is a sweet balm to my hurting heart.
But tonight,
here on Earth,
with arms that let go of her for the last time over seven years ago...
I just miss my little girl.