The awkward silence

 Silence is an awkward thing nowadays in the Wilson household.  For the past 2 weeks we have been incredibly blessed to have family visiting and staying with us and today was our last day visiting with Kim, Sheyenne's mom.  When Sheyenne and I returned home from the airport we were slammed with silence in our home and to be honest it really sucks.  

Yesterday was a horrible day in the fact that we brought Whitney's remains to our home until we can bury her in Cincinnati next to my (sean) mom.  Never in a million years did I picture bringing my first child home in an urn as opposed to sitting in a car seat or in my arms.  This has been incredibly difficult because as the "protector" of the home I feel that I have failed my daughter.  I know that there is nothing that we could have done, but that does not take away from the giant hole sitting in our hearts.  

I can't imagine many of these emotions going away anytime soon, and it's funny that in one day I could write a post about being a proud father and go down the tube and feel like I will never get out of this sadness again.  I told Sheyenne that I felt like I should have written another post called "A Sad Father" because even in the moment of being proud I knew how empty that "proudness"can feel because I miss my girl so so much.  There are many moments when I want to scream to the heavens how unfair this is and how angry I am because I want the silence of my house to be broken by the ear piercing screams of a new born baby wanting a diaper changed or food to be eaten.  But as I listen in my house I hear nothing and this silence says more than any noise I can imagine.   

Through a guy named Brian Hogan, God really ministered to my heart.  He reminded me of truth that is worth being reminded of.  I tend to feel alone most times in my grief.  It is not that I am alone, because there is my wife and family and friends, but there are times when I feel alone from God.  Many times I have thought, God how can you let my daughter die!  Brian reminded me that God knows this pain as well as I do.  I think back to Matthew 27 while Jesus was hanging on the cross.  Alone, naked and dying I picture the world being silent.  For three hours darkness encompassed the land and I have a glimpse into the emotion of that time.  God watched his son die and watched him cry out in pain and agony and could not do anything.  God remained silent.  Upon reflection I could not be more mistaken in my loneliness.  I was reminded that God knows the true depths of my sorrow as he watched his own son die.  I was reminded that God knows my helplessness as he watched the greatest tragedy happen.  God knows the pain of silence as he heard the last breath of his son stop.  

I long for the day to be awaken in the middle of the night by my child crying (notice I said my child and not anyone else's so no baby sitting!).  I long for the silence to be broken in my house by children running around singing and shouting and laughing.  The fear dwells in my heart that my longing will not come to pass but I know that God knows my silence and exactly what I need.  The answer to my pain is found in God's provision.  We have so many wonderful people in our lives and possibly the best family ever.  I cannot tell you all how amazing and wonderful my wife is.  She is great and the best friend I could ever have.