Yesterday evening Mark and I went back to the hospital where Emma passed away. When I looked over the Skyway Bridge and saw the ACH sign, I lost my breath. A flood of emotions came over me all at once. I longed to see my second family again, yet dreaded going into the room where she passed away.
When we got to the PICU floor and the doors opened, the smell of hand sanitizer and oxygen overtook my senses. It was like she was still there, yet she wasn’t. Mark and I hugged the nurses necks and walked around the unit.
Then we came to the room. The room where she lost her earthly battle. The room where she passed away.
We went in. (there wasn’t a patient in that room.) It was surreal. It looked a lot bigger without all of her equipment, yet it seemed a lot smaller without her there. Mark and just stood there, and cried.
She was not in that bed. She was not hooked up to the machines that kept her body alive here. She was not in pain anymore, crying and pleading with her eyes.
Be still, my soul.
Mark and I hugged each other tight, and smiled.
She is home.
At that moment, the above verse came to my mind.
She was always His.
He ransomed her.
He called her by name.
He called her home.