If I reach back to touch the dogeared image of who you were,
I forget to take pictures of who you are now with God.
I acknowledge I want you here today. Concrete.
Real. Healthy. Vibrant.
You are all those things with Him.
He is my promise, beyond the years of loss, that nothing
Is wasted.
Heartache isn’t the end of my story.

So, I keep my eyes fixed on the horizon. Anticipate
God’s goodness in my pain.
And God shapes the sunrise of hope—without you.
I pause.

Breathe.

Remember you beyond the grave.
Joy still comes. Joy comes!

I snap a fresh picture of you by living motherhood forward.
Make new memories, not despite missing who you were,
but because I live, remembering you
With Jesus.