Last January, after my second miscarriage when I was so devastated I couldn’t think, I spent an evening going through my Bible and identifying every verse I could find that brought me comfort. I wrote them out on index cards and taped them up all over the house — on mirrors, over light switches, even inside the fridge. This was so that no matter where I looked, I would be reminded of God’s promises to me.

Throughout the year I’ve taken some down — first the ones in the living room (when we had people over who weren’t familiar with this chapter in our story), then later on I would take one or two down out of the kitchen or pick one up that had fallen down. Even so, I had four or five still taped around my bedroom and in my bathroom, serving as an ongoing reminder that there was wonderful joy ahead.

Saturday afternoon while I was cleaning and organizing upstairs, I took the rest of them down. It’s not because I don’t feel like I need to be reminded of God’s promises; it’s more that I no longer feel like I need to identify with that aspect of my grief anymore. God’s Word and his promises to me have kept me afloat in the last year, and I feel good now to be learning to swim, so to speak.

I look forward to that wonderful joy …