This past weekend my husband and I had the pleasure of watching our three daughters get baptized. Our youngest was so eager to accept Jesus as her Savior, she asked to go first.
Before stepping into the baptismal, our family prayed at the front of the church, when a song that is dear to our hearts began to play. Tears began to flow from our eyes as we remembered the beautiful rendition on the song that Miss Lizzie Minor sang solo at Toby’s funeral. I do not think the song could have been sung more sweeter than she sang it that day.
After our church services were over, we hustled home to host a celebration. Both of our immediate families were there, it was a good day. A good day full of laughter and excitement over the best decision our girls could ever make.
That night, once dishes were done and the house was picked up, I lay down to rest. I thought of the amazing day we had just had with our families and our girls. I thought of the loss of our sweet nephew and his family. I wept. The kind of tears that come from your soul. The kind of tears that no matter how hard you try there is no stopping until your heart is cleansed. I wept for the happiness we posses and the sadness we cannot hide.
I have been told, I wear my heart on my sleeve. This may be true and bitter sweet.