I had another post planned for this week, but this is all I’m able to write about at the moment. When tragedy strikes, sometimes we just have to acknowledge the hurt, whether through words, or music, or tears, or painting, or something else. Sometimes there are simply no words. And sometimes there are, but they are insufficient.

Someday I may come back to this post and share the pictures I took of precious Penelope (with her parent’s permission, of course), but not yet. For now, I think this butterfly tells the story powerfully.

It’s not just a butterfly magnet on the door frame of room 302. It’s a black hole of sorrow. It’s crushed hopes, shattered dreams. It is empty arms and impossible decisions a parent should never have to make, but will make anyway. It is a nightmare that stretches into days, then weeks, then months. It is a journey of unspecified outcome, with no map, no timeline, and no right direction. It is a heartbreaking plummet from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows, all in a matter of moments. It is devastation after nine months (or more) of eager anticipation. It is staring into a face that will never look back at you, willing with all your might to make those eyelids flutter, that mouth cry, or those little eyebrows furrow.

But it is also more that that.

It is hope, an anchor for the soul, firm and secure, that because Christ was raised from the dead, we shall be raised also. It is joy, even in the midst of unbearable grief, that this child is safe from despair, from fear, from anger, and from disappointment, because all she will ever know is what it’s like to be in the presence of her Creator. It is community, that we suffer together, that those who have give what they can–an ear to listen, a voice to pray, a hand to hold, or simply a camera to savor the few fleeting memories. It is faith, that even tragedy cannot cancel out God’s goodness and trustworthiness. It is comfort, knowing that our Lord also experienced His own Son being torn from Him, and He grieves with us. It is forward, whether forward is facedown on the ground or finally working up the strength to take a step. It is having no regrets, that we would do it all over again. It is acknowledging that someday, somehow, it will be okay, just not right now.