A different kind of Pain

I remember when Annie was first diagnosed with Rett Syndrome. I remember the way I cried. I had cried lots of times before then, for things like bad grades, being "unfairly" grounded by my parents, arguments with friends, break-ups with boy friends, the loss of my grandparents, lots of crying in my, then, 28 years. But when Annie was diagnosed I remember sobbing, uncontrolably, a whole body shake. I had never been more terrified in my life. I had never been more heartbroken. The pain of your child hurts worse than anything else in the world. I remember those tears continued to fall for 11 whole months, every single day (except the day Gracie was born, I remember THAT day I was crying happy tears of joy), the terror, the shaking, the tears, and then 1 day it all stopped. I'm not sure what it was, I was still heart broken but there came a point when I just couldn't cry anymore. Oh, don't get me wrong, I still cry, lots of times, just not every day. What's interesting to me is that when I cry about Annie it's still that same, take your breath away, inability to stop, drop to your knees kind of cry. A saddness that has cut so deep that it won't ever go away. It seems to come up whenever something changes in Annie's life, I go back to that moment of diagnosis and think how long it's been, how much longer will it be before she comes back to me and dear God why in the world are you allowing this? One day that question will be answered and I believe 1 day there will be so much joy, a joy that we've never felt before, a joy so great that we will completely forget about all the tears, a joy that will completely fill up that cut that was once so deep. A joy that will never go away. I'm dreaming of that day, and each moment that passes we get closer and closer. "For I will restore health to you and heal you of your wounds, said the Lord". God always keeps his promises, I just wish he would fulfill that promise right now.