Filling the Void

Years speed by, spinning in my mind.

All the moments, hundreds of thousands of them, flashing in a kaleidoscope of memories.

The day I first saw you, a missed opportunity, and the night we met, realizing our paths were destined to cross.

Looking back on those days, like pieces on a chessboard, I see how God moved for a greater purpose.

It wasn’t just a love story; our chance meeting was part of His plan.

It certainly wasn’t a fairytale. It wasn’t without mistakes, outside of what He intended. But, he uses all things for good, I’ve learned.

Through all the detours, the wrong turns, the breakdowns, He was always there, guiding us, bringing us back to Him.

Molding us for His glory. Through the lean years, through the cold distance of hurt, and the closeness of shared grief, we were one.

And then, you met Him face to face. You joined our precious girl in eternity.

Now I fill the empty void.

With what?

With pictures in my mind, with regrets in my heart, and the promise of Heaven.

The wind as it blows Dad’s windmill you painted in Texas colors. The leaves in the trees of a garden planted in Mandy’s and now your memory. The tinkle of the windchimes you always loved.

The void is vast and too quiet, but in the stillness, I feel His presence and yours, guiding me on this new journey, the one I never imagined I would travel alone.

Our story began with God. It will end with Him. My story continues and I can only hope that what I do to fill the void is pleasing to Him and honors you, my love.

Above all, it points others to a life beyond what we can ever imagine or hope for.

I see you all around me. I see you in the empty recliner, in the tools worn from your craft, in the home we asked God to bless.

I see you in the eyes of our children, in the laughter of our grandkids. I feel you in the darkest moments of my grieving.

And, I look forward, Heavenward, for the day you welcome me home.

Snapshots

God gave me you 32 years ago today.

I didn’t know then that it was a loan, but I’m grateful for every day of the 30 years we had with you and every memory I cherish. The times you cried when I rocked you and sang Jesus Loves Me, how you and your Papaw were inseparable for the first four years of your life, how you and Dad could have inside jokes with just a look, all the times you hoodwinked your brother out of his toys, proudly claimed him as your best friend, and fiercely loved and defended him even after he grew a foot taller than you. How you loved sharing a room with your baby sister until you were 18, french braiding her hair because I could never figure out that skill, teaching her all the sister things, and cheering her on at every softball game.

I remember how you bravely learned to give yourself insulin shots by age 5, the many times God answered our prayers to save your life, and the way you embraced going away to diabetic camp for three weeks at age 6. I remember all the craft kits, the glitter, feather boa, paints, your photography, and your unique style. You always swam against the current and didn’t give it a second thought.

I remember all the times you made me laugh until I peed a little, how you loved your sister-in-law who shared your love of all things Halloween and pumpkin spice, Lisa Frank, movie quotes, and ’90s alt-rock. I treasure the way you showered your precious niece and nephew with special Aunt Mandy love.

I remember everyone praying over you and God once again bringing a miracle. You taught us all grace and strength, even when you were stubborn and giving us your Grumpy Cat face, or the stare and blink until we gave in. So many memories, moments, and snapshots that were not enough. Blow out your candles today and hug your Dad for us. I’m sure you’ll find some sprinkle cupcakes to share.

What a celebration we’ll have someday.

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” – Revelation 21:4

Mandy Stringer – 2nd Heavenly birthday July, 14 2021