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Grace was born six years ago today.  I still find her 'birthday' hard to face. I think about her (and the whole experience I had with her) a lot in December. It's hard not to. Last week the words of the very well known Psalm 23 popped into my head, followed by some thoughts about them, which I scribbled down. I haven't edited them much, so it's not polished writing - just my thoughts.

Thank you to anyone who takes time to read my writing and think about her and remember her. It still means a lot.

A Thought

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me." Psalm 23

This is that. This is what this week is - the valley of the shadow of death. This week, where everything that happened that week, six years ago is relived in High Definition in my mind. The build-up - the happy bit where I was the pregnant mum of a toddler, enjoying a fairly typical run up to Christmas - a Santa visit, lunch with friends, last minute purchasing of cheese (funny the details that stick). Then the interim bit where I began to worry, wonder, make phone calls - but still hoped. Then the rest where the world crashed in and life was, to say the least, frightening and unrecognisable for a time.

So many hours, days, weeks, months and now years have flown by since then, but each year, in December, I find myself back there, facing that week like a hapless time traveller who finds themselves returning again and again to the very thing they would rather not have seen once, never mind over and over on an HD loop, whenever the earth spins and deposits us again into another December.

Yet here is the key; "I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," - death and all it's stabbing pain and longing touched my life. I held it and cradled it and looked into eyes that had been closed by it, before they could look even once upon me. And each year I walk that valley again, unable to pull myself away from the grief and sadness that valley holds.

But here is the next bit - "I will fear no evil for You are with me." As His hand held and guided me back then (however much I doubted it), it holds and guides me still. As I walk through a subtly differently-tinted valley each time, each year at a slightly greater remove from the original, He is with me. I cannot navigate it on my own, but I'm not supposed to. His rod and staff they comfort me. He guides and leads, through songs, words from the Bible, kindness, wisdom and fresh insight from people placed in my path, hugs and tears shed.

It is the valley of the shadow of death, but death itself has no power - not the original death, six years ago or the thousand fresh versions of it, the repercussions of it, I have faced since and still face. It is only a shadow, for in Him and all He has done for us, it is defeated, finished forever, leaving only light and hope.

So every time I feel the coldness and darkness of the shadow looming over my December, my Christmas, I will lean with all my might into His glorious light, waiting for the warmth of his presence and love to dispel that darkness again, until a more hope-filled and beautiful day, when I'll meet her again and there will finally be no shadow at all.

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