Our Emma remarks how it's unbelievable this happened when she was alive. Noah just wishes it had never happened. Dorothy soaks it all in--I can see the weight of it all bearing down on her soul. Charlotte wonders when we'll go home; she's "kind of tired."
We spent the day remembering. And I could not help but ache for the many whose lives were changed that day. The shock. The horror. How it replays in your mind. How in a matter of minutes your life can change forever.
Like the kick has done to mine. To ours. How every night I lay awake, replaying it, the terror of it all fresh in my mind. I thank the Father for our lives spared. I am so very grateful for this breath, and this one and this one and...
He is good. He binds up our wounds and heals our broken souls. I eagerly await healing this side of heaven. There is hope for a brand new day.
353. Wide-open eyes that show me the ocean
354. Her solemn face taking it all in
355. Impromptu photo shoots with daughters
356. Forever friends across the miles
357. Remembering together
358. Dinner together every night
359. Flute and cello
360. Documentary video hope
361. Photos that speak
362. Setting sun and frisbees flying
363. Text messages that encourage
364. Handed-down winter warmth
"Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them. Remember the day...You came near and stood at the foot of the mountain while it blazed with fire to the very heavens, with black clouds and deep darkness."
-Deuteronomy 4:9-11 [NIV]
