Saturday, February 25, 2012

Lonely Saturday Night

It's a lonely Saturday night.  I'm sitting here studying for my Masters degree.  And all I can think about is my Caroline.  I miss her. 

My heart has not hurt like this in a few weeks.  I thought I was having a heart attack this afternoon.  I had shortness of breath, again, and I actually could not breath at all for about 5 seconds.  The pain just took over and all I could do was wince in excruciating pain.  I couldn't even clutch my chest for I lacked strength.

I know she is with my Jesus.  But I am not.  And I long to be with Him.  I want to know Him more.  I want to see His face.  I want to behold His glory.  I want to leave this world of guilt, shame, failures, pain, suffering, crying, anxiety, and the list goes on.  I want to be in Heaven more than anything else.

But I have to ask I want to be in Heaven because I really do want to be with Jesus???  Or is it that I just want to be with Caroline?  Am I that carnal?  And I that shallow?  Really?? 

Jesus, perfect in every way, never sinned.  Yet He came to earth to die for my sins (and yours).  He was punished by flogging, as soldiers repeatedly hit him with a cat-o-nine tails.  Soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and crushed it into his head.  Soldiers mocked him by clothing him in a purple robe and went up to him saying, "Hail, king of the Jews" as they struck him in the face.  Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spit on him.  Physically exhausted and bloody from his beatings, he carried his own cross as he marched to his death.  Soldiers then nailed spikes through his hands and feet and then lifted the cross for him to hang as they continued mocking him.  But, before he died, his suffering continued.  Soldiers took his clothes and ripped them into quarters.  When he was thirsty, they gave him a sponge soaked in wine vinegar. 

Despite knowing his tremendous, ultimate sacrifice, I am still missing Caroline more.  I might as well be one of the soldiers who spit in Jesus' face.  Yes, I am shallow.  I am still angry that she is not here.  I DO want to see Jesus...but I have to admit that I do not grieve for His death like I do Caroline's.  At least not right now.

Several of our friends are celebrating the lives of their little ones as I write this.  Others are expecting healthy babies within the next few months.

And all I can do is sulk in my sorrow, fight back tears, pound my fists in anger, and miss her like crazy.  This is ALL I can do.  I am powerless.  No one can help me fix this.  It is not fixable.  There is no solution.  

I want her back.  I want to hold her.  I want to hear her laugh.  I would give anything to change a poopie diaper right now.  I never thought I'd say that.  I'd be ecstatic to wake up in the middle of the night just to be able to hold her and rock her back to sleep.

Dear sweet baby Caroline,
     I miss you baby girl.  I'm sorry I'm struggling like this.  I don't want to be.  I promise.  I want to be strong.  I want to make you proud.  But I'm hurting right now.  I am just happy that you are in a better place than I am!! Please tell Jesus I said, "Hey!" and that I will talk to Him later tonight.  I love you so much. 
Your Daddy

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