"It never failed to amaze me how the most ordinary day could be catapulted into the extraordinary in the blink of an eye." ~Jodi Picoult

I wrote the following two years ago today, but I never actually published it to my blog. Now that October 10th is here again, I thought it would be a good time to share it....

October 10th has always been a seemingly ordinary day in my life.  If you looked at this date on my calendar across my lifetime, it would usually appear as any other day - either blank or filled with the mundane "to do" lists that often accompany most days.  But occasionally that day has brought profound, life-changing events.

On October 10, 1989, I was a 23-year-old wife, living in Dallas, and working for a semi-conductor recruiting firm.  The month before, Jeff and I had learned we were expecting our first child, and we were so excited!  But on the morning of October 10th, I realized something wasn't right.  What followed was a trip to the doctor, an ultrasound that showed no heartbeat, an "I'm so sorry" from my doctor, and a weekend of beginning the grieving process.

For the next 14 years, October 10th came and went.  At first, as with any loss, the coming of that date brought back great emotion and sorrow.  But as time passed, the pain lessened.  I would still think of the events of that day when I flipped my calendar to October, but I was better able to see God's Hand in my life, the blessing of my living children, and the lessons I learned through that difficult season.

Then, October 10th came again in a powerfully sorrowful way.  On October 10, 2003, our family buried my father.  He had died suddenly and unexpectedly as the result of an accident four days prior.  For most of that week, I had been in shock.  I remember leaving the cemetery that day, as the full weight of what had just happened would take several more weeks to fully settle in upon me.

And again, for the first several years after that, October 10th was a hard day.  Even now, sixteen years later, I can vividly remember the most minor details of that entire week.  But just like my previous experience, the passage of time has eased the rawness of the pain.  I'm able to reflect more on the good memories of my daddy over the 38 years I was blessed to spend with him, and less on the horrors of that final week.

And now, October 10th is here again.  Only this October 10th, I got to meet and hold my newborn third grandchild, surrounded by my first two precious grandchildren.  

Isn't that kind of a microcosm of life itself?  Most days come and go in a very ordinary way.  We go through our usual schedule and pace.  But interspersed in those ordinary days we find that great sorrow and suffering will arise.  Likewise, we all experience great highs - moments of unspeakable joy.  It just so happens that those things have often intersected in my life on October 10th.

I'm thankful for all October 10th has brought to my life.  My miscarriage experience gave me a greater appreciation for the children I would be blessed to meet, raise, and love on this side of eternity.  It also gave me greater compassion for those I would cross paths with since then who are suffering the same kind of loss.  Similarly, I feel the same way about the loss of my daddy.  There are days I miss him, and I would love to be able to see and talk to him.  But his loss - especially the way we lost him - has given me greater empathy for those suffering similar grief.  And knowing that the two greatest losses in my life are together now, and I will see them both one day gives me great joy.

And now - on October 10, 2019 - I feel like I've come full circle.  As I held Owen Jeffrey Renz today, I was overwhelmed by the irony.  There was so much joy in that room, but I couldn't help but think of the other events in my life in years' past on this same day.  The unborn child I've never met, and my daddy who would've been so thrilled to have held and loved his great-grandchildren.  

R.J. Palacio wrote, "It's so weird how that can be, how you could have a night that's the worst in your life, but to everybody else it's just an ordinary night. Like on my calendar at home, I would mark this as being one of the most horrific days of my life. . . But for the rest of the world, this was just an ordinary day. Or maybe it was even a good day."  The opposite of that is also true - I thought about that as we left the hospital tonight filled with joy.  Most of the people we encountered had no idea.

Everyone has days like this forever etched in their memories.  Maybe it's not the same day in your life like it has been in mine, but it's still there.  So as you walk through that day each year - either a day that has brought great sorrow or unspeakable joy or maybe both - I hope you will find a way to praise God, knowing that "He has made everything beautiful in its time" (Eccl. 3:10).  And don't forget to praise Him in the normal days, too.