I read this lil prayer book everyday called Magnificat. It has the Scripture for each individual daily Mass written in it according to the Liturgical year. On the days that Phoebe was born and died, I did not read my Magnificat since I was rather preoccupied. Tonight I decided to look back on those days and this is what I found:
- The Psalm for the day that Phoebe was born, April 11th, was Psalm 23. My faithful midwife played it for us on her computer after Phoebe was born and I was so hooked that I got my sister to sing it for the funeral. The song has been stuck in my head ever since! Here it is:
The Lord is my Shepherd: I shall not want.
In verdant pastures He gives me repose;
Beside restful waters He leads me;
He refreshes my soul.
He guides me in right paths
for His name's sake.
Even though I walk in the dark valley
I fear no evil; for You are at my side.
With Your rod and Your staff
that give me courage.
You spread the table before me
In the sight of my foes;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Only goodness and kindness follow me
All the days of my life;
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
For years to come.
- For the day that Phoebe died, April 12th, this is part of the Psalm used for the Mass (I'm not typing the whole thing because....well I have to wake up at 4:00 tomorrow morning...haha):
O Lord, hear my prayer,
And let my cry come unto You.
Hide not Your face from me
In the day of my distress.
Incline Your ear to me;
In the day when I call, answer me speedily.
- On the day that Paul and I went out at my family's property in search of a nice place to bury her, it was still gray and wintery looking. Within the space of that day and the day of Phoebe's burial, the cherry trees up and down the drive came into full bloom ( :
- I believe I've already mentioned so in this blog, but the day of Phoebe's funeral happened to land on the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. That really struck me because I had begun to understand in a small way what she had gone through as a mother who had to live to see her Son die. All through my sucky pregnancy I developed a stronger relationship with her because of her sorrows, and I knew beyond a doubt that she would be praying and praying for me as I endured a pain that was, again in it's own small way, somewhat similar to hers.
I could go on for quite awhile about how His hand was there at the birth also (pushing away the nurses and doctor...mwahaha) but I'm getting to tired. I may or may not continue this post another day [ :