"Lost"

"Our parting is not the end of our relationship, only an interruption. We have not "lost" them, because we know where they are." (Randy Alcorn, Heaven)

"I'm sorry for your loss." It's a condolence that countless people offered me after Brittany died, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that before this nightmare, I, too, said it to others when their loved one had died. Not anymore. The more I heard it, the more upset I became...not at the person who spoke the words, but at the word "loss" itself. My daughter wasn't...isn't..."lost." I know where she is....Heaven. Eventually...and politely...I would point that out. I would (and still) simply say, "Thank you, but Brittany isn't lost. She died...and now she's in Heaven." Sometimes people look at me like I'm crazy...or rude. I'm neither. I'm only stating what I believe to be fact. And one day, my little girl and I will be together again.

People often ask me if I'm angry at God. Sometimes. Ok, maybe a lot of the time...but not enough to make me turn away from my faith. Has it been shaken? Absolutely. Have I rejected it? Absolutely not. And while it may seem a bit contradictory, in many ways my faith has been strengthened...maybe even renewed. Let me try and explain why. 

Like I've said before, right after Brittany died I would spend every single day with her at the cemetery (I hate that word). I would scream out loud to God...throw childish tantrums, actually...demanding an explanation. I never got one. Then I resorted to begging and pleading on my hands and knees. I wanted to know...I needed to know...that she was ok. God had inexplicably ripped my world apart...ripped the heart out of my very chest. Didn't I deserve to know that she was ok? Didn't I, at the very least, deserve that small comfort and not be endlessly tormented wondering where she was? I couldn't stand it. It was destroying me mentally and physically and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown...literally. Then He answered...in a dream.

Brittany was holding me. I could even feel her bony arms wrapped around me. She had her chin resting on my forehead and she was smiling. I didn't feel sadness in this dream because she was so happy and peaceful. It was almost tangible. I remember wanting to ask her if she had been in pain after the accident...if she had been scared...but I was unable to speak the words. Then, as if reading my very thoughts, she simply said, "Mom, I just remember my head hurting really bad." She then said "I love you," smiled down at me and kissed my forehead...a wet kiss...not a peck. And it was over. I woke up crying, covered in goose bumps. My forehead wasn't wet from this kiss, but it was slightly cold and tingly. To this day I can touch the very spot where her lips touched me. This dream happened on Tuesday, July 27...exactly two weeks to the day after she died. I immediately woke Brett and told him what happened. He held me and cried, too. "God gave you your answer, honey." He had indeed. 

While I'm still upset with God for taking my little girl away from me...and while I will never understand why...I'm more thankful for the blessings He granted me. He didn't let her die at the scene of the accident. He kept her perfect and beautiful, despite the devastation of the wreck. He gave Brittany the strength to hold on for 5 days. He gave me time to hold her...to tell her how much I love her...and to say goodbye. And He gave me that dream...comforting me with the knowledge that she is safe and happy with Him... patiently waiting for me. 

I am still broken and crippled beyond words. I still question God's decision to take my precious daughter from me. And sometimes I still yell. But at least I know where she is. She isn't lost.