This has been a strange week, a strange month really, so it's been a strange time to be recording so many of my thoughts.

I've been thinking a lot about my family. I have fallen in love and adore my family even more than I did even a year ago. I love them in a way I never knew was possible.

My oldest son amazes me a little more everyday as I see the great character that is developing in him. Just the other night he and I had a conversation that still brings pride filled tears to my eyes...

I casually mentioned my concerns over his growing fascination with the video games he gets to play at church. It's not that I think it's bad but it seems to occupy so many of his thoughts...when he, all on his own, recognized that it might be best to stop playing the games after his class so that he could spend more time focusing on what he had learned so it didn't slip away.

And then my sweet daughter, who unfairly carries the burden of being our only living daughter. She is sassy and difficult but so amazing. She has a will of iron and a love for her family, her God, and her friends that is unmatched. All she wants is to have relationship. She wants to give her whole heart to every friend. She wants to give gifts and give pieces of her self to everyone she loves. And with each piece what she has to give grows even more.

My youngest son is the one who makes everyone smile. He's the one that, even in mischief, brings a smile to everyone around him. Who stands at the door of his Sunday School class calling for Miss Wobin, knowing she'll show up and he can once again tell her about all the cars. The one who, when told he's loved, replys with "That makes me so happy." He sucks the marrow out of life and thinks just being alive is amazing.

And my daughter who has forever changed me but is now in the arms of Jesus. The privilege of being chosen as her mother can't even be put into words. I will forever be grateful...

Here I sit, a mother to four but my last pregnancy turbulent and my last baby at home in heaven rather than in her bassinet next to my bed.

I ask myself almost everyday if that bassinet is meant to stay empty? If this is the end of my birthing career? I honestly can't imagine what the answer might be. How do I even answer that? Do I use logic? Emotion? And who's logic or emotions do I use? If it's mine, which set of facts or feelings do I turn to?

I think this is contributing to some of my sadness. Just not knowing and not knowing how to know.

So I wait on God. I wait and force myself not to answer. I choose to trust, even when it hurts and it's uncomfortable, I am choosing to trust.