See, here’s the thing: to the outside world, my son’s death happened at a single point in time.
But to me, his death is a continuous event.
I must lift the cup of sorrow every day to parched lips. I must choose to take it to the One Who can help me lift it.
Jesus knows this cup.
He knows my pain: My Cup Overflows
It crosses my mind sometimes.
And it’s a topic of conversation among bereaved mamas:
There are lots of answers.
Some of us remain in the fight because we still have people depending on us-other children, aging parents, a spouse who is also grieving.
Others persevere because they want to honor their missing child’s memory and life and they do some big thing to commemorate him or her-fight for a cause, promote awareness, create a foundation.
Me-I hold onto the promise that in all this pain, all this sorrow, all this struggle-God is doing a work in me and through me for His glory.
Before Dominic left us I knew only a handful of bereaved mothers.
But each of these women had a sweet, gracious, patient, kindness that flowed out of them like water from a spring.
I saw one of them yesterday.
We hugged and exchanged knowing looks filled with deep love born from deep sorrow. She didn’t ask me about trivial things-because she knows there is really only one question that matters:
Am I continuing to lean on Jesus?
Is He enough?
Do I trust that God will redeem and restore?
Because in the end, the only thing that makes this struggle meaningful is the promise that one day, a never-ending, eternal day, God will bring beauty from the ashes of burying my child.
He will fulfill the promise of the everlasting Jubilee:
He wants me to help those in Zion who are filled with sorrow. I will put beautiful crowns on their heads in place of ashes. I will anoint them with olive oil to give them joy instead of sorrow. I will give them a spirit of praise in place of a spirit of sadness. They will be like oak trees that are strong and straight. The Lord himself will plant them in the land. That will show how glorious he is.
Isaiah 61:3 NIRV
And I believe that God’s going to have show and tell. He’s going to parade His persevering children to a wondering world at the end of the age.
Maybe He’ll say something like, “See! There’s My masterpiece! There’s My love on display! The devil thought he had won, but he is wrong. Eternally and undeniably wrong!”
For we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, ready to be used] for good works, which God prepared [for us] beforehand [taking paths which He set], so that we would walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us].
Ephesians 2:10 AMP
I want to be pliable under the hand of the Potter-even though it hurts.
I’ll stay in the fire-even though it’s hot.
I’ll trust the One Who made and is making me.
Because the story God is writing for me and my family doesn’t end with ashes.
I want to make sense of the senseless.
I want to draw boundary lines around tragedy so I know what precautions can keep it far away from me.
But God is in control. Not me.
How Job’s comforters got it wrong…
The gospels don’t hide the fact that Jesus came to a broken world.
Religious leaders who were supposed to be guarding and guiding God’s people were instead protecting positions of power and leading others astray.
The masses were beaten down-helpless under the burden of Roman occupation and hopeless that they could ever “measure up” under the system of customs and laws that had been imposed by the Pharisees.
Jesus spoke truth to this reality, He didn’t deny it.
Jesus looked brokenness in the face and promised redemption and restoration.
But He admitted that in THIS world, the one we walked on, there would be tribulation. He didn’t promise a pain-free existence, He promised His Presence in the midst of pain.
And that is the power of the cross-that an instrument of torture became a symbol of hope.
What the enemy meant for evil, God used for good.
When we try to soft-pedal the struggles of life, when we try to shape our stories into victorious narratives with tidy endings, when we deny the presence of pain, we diminish the power of the cross.
Read more here: denial
If you get up every morning and go to work-I applaud you!
Most of my days start with work, but I don’t have to go farther than my own property to discharge my duties.
But today I had to get going extra early for a doctor’s appointment with a specialist about 50 miles away. So I rushed through my morning chores, double-checked I had everything I needed and left home by 7:10.
I had to park in a parking garage-no easy feat when you drive a full-size pickup and the spaces are designed for mid-size cars. The low roof, confined space and limited light make me feel trapped and uncomfortable.
Every time I have to fill out health paperwork there is always a question or two that makes me think of Dominic. I shake off the beginnings of tears and wait to be called back.
My blood pressure is higher than it usually is and I’m a bit heavier than last time I was there-both things that make me feel like a failure and add to the voice in my head that says, “You aren’t good enough. You are doing something wrong or this wouldn’t have happened to you.”
My disease is progressing and although my doctor is kind, and patient, and fully aware of the fact that I’ve buried a child, she broaches once again a treatment option that has more risk but potentially greater efficacy.
I’m just not ready to take the leap.
So my anxiety mounts as I think of both alternatives: Submitting myself to a new treatment that may have grave consequences or giving in to the inevitable limitations that rheumatoid arthritis is imposing on my life.
She graciously puts off the decision for another three months but I know I won’t be in any better position to make it then either. I’m paralyzed now when I have to decide these kinds of things-torn between “doing what’s best” and “what difference will it make?”
Bloodwork means waiting in a area next to the infusion clinic and hematology departments and I am surrounded by people that are in dire straits. Once more, between the waiting and the thinking, I’m ready to be out of there.
When I get back to my truck, what had looked like a pretty good place to park has become a nightmare. Another truck beside me and two parked opposite have closed the space I should have had to get out to the bare minimum. And someone is waiting for my spot.
Oh, joy!
I try.
I really try to figure out how to get too much vehicle out of too little space.
Finally, in tears, I step out of my truck (now in what I think is an impossible position) and raise my hands in the air-I give up! You win!
The kind man that was waiting steps out of his car and guides me backward and forward (4 turns!) until I am free from the awful predicament. I thank him and keep going.
Before Dominic left us this day would have seemed like a tiny blip on the radar of life. It certainly wouldn’t have brought me to tears.
But the energy required to simply get up and get going in the wake of losing him means that I have so much less to spend on anything else.
I don’t suffer from anxiety.
I’m not depressed.
But there are many moments throughout the day when I am anxious or sorrowful.
One minute I’m fine. And then a series of events, phone calls or memories pile one atop the other until they become a load I can no longer bear.
It feels like I am always behind, always short on resources, always close to tears.
And no matter how hard I try, I am unable to simply “get better”. No matter how much I organize or plan or work at it, I always end up frazzled and frustrated and feeling like a failure.
I wish it wasn’t like this-this added burden in addition to the missing and the sorrow. Maybe it’s part of the missing and the sorrow. I don’t know.
But I’m ready for a day, a single day, when I feel just a little bit victorious..
Growing up digesting Disney fairy tales can warp your sense of reality.
There are no unblemished princes or perfect princesses out there. The bad guys don’t always get what they deserve and the good guys don’t always win.
At least not here on earth.
Read the rest here: Messy Lives, Merciful Savior
The first time God reveals Himself as Jehovah-Jireh, The LORD Who Provides, is Genesis 22.
Abraham and Sarah have received their son of promise. But God tests Abraham.asking him to sacrifice Isaac.
Abraham obeys in faith, trusting God even in this request that seems to undo every promise the LORD had previously made to him.
How would he be the father of many nations if his only son was taken from him?
As they were going, Isaac noticed something unusual, “See here is the fire and the wood but where is the lamb for the burnt sacrifice?” (Genesis 22:7)
To which Abraham replied, “My son, God Himself will provide a lamb for the burnt offering.” (Genesis 2:8)
Jehovah-Jireh, the LORD My Provider was his answer.
He couldn’t see the provision, there were no loud bleats in the distance, but Abraham knew the character of the God he served and he trusted that what he needed God would provide.
And God did provide.
Isaac, bound on the altar, Abraham’s (trembling?) hand raised, the Angel of the Lord calls to Abraham:
“Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.”
And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in a thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called the name of that place, “The Lord will provide” Genesis 22:12-14
I wasn’t asked to give up my son.
There was no miraculous intervention on that day.
No angel stayed the hand of circumstance that slew my child.
But I do believe that even in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the LORD is My Provider.
He provided His own Son, Who conquered sin and death and Who made a way through the Holy of Holies for my child to enter eternity straight into the arms of Jesus.
I don’t have to fear that when Dominic left us, he was left alone.
I don’t have to worry that our seperation is forever.
I don’t have to wonder if he was “good enough” to get into heaven.
I can trust in the character of my God, The LORD My Provider, that He has made full and adequate provision for me and for all those who trust in Him through Jesus to be redeemed and restored.
And He has provided friends and family and online communities and His Word to bring me comfort in the waiting.
He fills my heart with hope when my soul is weary.
He grants peace when I am overcome with anxious thoughts.
He pours grace and mercy and love into the empty places so that being filled, I can overflow.
There are days when I wonder, days when I am afraid. When those days come, I run to the tower of the Name of the LORD. I remember that He is The LORD My Provider.
He has provided. He does provide. He will provide. He IS His Name.
When struck by fear, I let go, depending securely upon You alone. Psalm 56:3 VOICE
The other day I needed to get something in the room where we have Dominic’s things stored-not the boxed-up-not-dealing-with-them-now things-but the personal things that bear his scent, his mark, his personality.
And the warm spring air had concentrated the odor that is him just behind the doorway. It caught me by surprise-that I could still smell him, still feel his presence, still be so certain that he had just passed by this very spot.
My mama heart cried, “More time!”
Just one more minute,
one more hug,
one more “I love you”,
one more breath.
But it would never be enough.
One more would only feed my longing for the next minute.
There is no earthly cure for this heart sickness. No words to make it better. No medicine strong enough to numb the pain of missing him.
So I wait.
I wait for my heart to heal enough so that I can focus on something other than healing.
I wait for passion to return to my soul.
I wait for a day-just one day-when joyful moments outweigh sorrowful ones.
I wait for the promised beauty from ashes.
I wait for faith to be made sight.
And while I wait, I turn my heart and mind and strength toward the One Who is Faithful and True.
Nothing that has cursed mankind shall exist any longer; the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be within the city. His servants shall worship him; they shall see his face, and his name will be upon their foreheads. Night shall be no more; they have no more need for either lamplight or sunlight, for the Lord God will shed his light upon them and they shall reign as kings for timeless ages.
Then the angel said to me, “These words are true and to be trusted, for the Lord God, who inspired the prophets, has sent his angel to show his servants what must shortly happen.”
“See, I come quickly! Happy is the man who pays heed to the words of the prophecy in this book.”
Revelation 22:3-7 PHILLLIPS
I must remind my heart every day that Jesus Himself declared the blessing in mourning. I must remember that there is comfort available at His feet. Not in running from my pain, but in embracing it and trusting Him to redeem it.
What blessing is there in mourning? What comfort in distress? What good can come from pain and brokenness?
Good questions.
Honest questions.
Questions I have asked God.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”~Jesus
The folks that followed Him up the hill were part of a nation that had waited centuries for deliverance from sin and persecution. Jesus was surrounded by people powerless to change their circumstances. They were grieving, mourning, in distress.
So when He said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” He was offering real hope to the brokenhearted. He was issuing an invitation…
When we reach the end of our own strength in grief, God invites us into a fellowship of suffering that includes Jesus Christ.
Burying a child is a humbling experience. It is teaching me that I am powerless and oh, so dependent on the grace and mercy of God.
My heart was broken open wide to receive the truth that fierce love makes me vulnerable to deep pain.
And the pain cleared the clutter and noise of the everyday to focus my mind’s attention and my heart’s affection on the eternal.
My life is swept clean of distraction and foolish things and filled with new understanding of what is important and lasting.
My pain has not disappeared.
But it is making room for the God of all comfort to fill it with hope:
That what I am feeling right now is not forever and forever is going to be glorious…
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. Revelation 21:4 KJV
It’s been said that children are a mother’s heart walking around outside her body–mine certainly are.
And now part of my heart is in heaven. That makes the promises of God so much more personal.
So I hunt for, cling to and chew on every word like it really is the bread of life–because while I walk the valley of the shadow of death this is the food that sustains me.
Today my heart is broken, but someday it will be whole again.
Today I walk in shadow, but someday I will walk in bright light:
“No longer will you need the sun to shine by day, nor the moon to give its light by night, for the LORD your God will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory.” Isaiah 60:19 NLT
Today all creation groans under the curse of sin and death, but someday everything will be restored, renewed and redeemed.
On this mountain [Zion] the Lord of hosts will prepare a lavish banquet for all peoples [to welcome His reign on earth],
A banquet of aged wines—choice pieces [flavored] with marrow,
Of refined, aged wines.And on this mountain He will destroy the covering that is [cast] over all peoples,
And the veil [of death] that is woven and spread over all the nations.He will swallow up death [and abolish it] for all time.
And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces,
And He will take away the disgrace of His people from all the earth;
For the Lord has spoken.It will be said in that day,
“Indeed, this is our God for whom we have waited that He would save us.
This is the Lord for whom we have waited;
Let us shout for joy and rejoice in His salvation.”
Isaiah 25:6-9 AMP
thelifeididntchoose 