As we drove home from the hospital, I don’t remember how many, if any words were said. We pulled into the driveway and everything was just as she left it. Her bike was still out front from riding it on Saturday. The little bird that she had made as a craft was sitting on a branch on the azalea bush out front right where she placed it. “How are we going to do this?” I thought. Our house was full of friends and food. The simplest act of love, my friend Robin standing at my stove stirring some chowder she had brought over. Other friends and their children quietly bringing in groceries they had bought for us. Still others just sitting there with us, not knowing what to say but their presence was enough.

The whole week leading up to the funeral was full of people in and out. God used His people to be His physical arms around us. As we made plans to bury Savannah, God was giving us the strength to glorify Him on that day. I knew in the hospital that I needed to sing at her funeral and Jody knew he needed to speak. That whole week Jody kept asking me if I was sure that I could sing. He said, ”If I start crying I can stop talking and regain my composure, but you can’t stop in the middle of a song.” I assured him that I would be OK and that singing is what I had to do. I just knew God was going to give me the strength, His strength, to get through it and He did. As I stood on that stage with my daughter’s coffin in front of me I prayed that God would sing through me. I thought about Savannah and the voice she has now to sing praises to Him face to face and I just wanted Him to let me sound like her. As I began to sing How Great Thou Art, He allowed me to focus on those words and just join Savannah in praising God for who He is and for the promise of eternal life with Him.