The first month-

without Mercy & Sam.  

While it seems as though the days have lasted 100 hours instead of 24, that each minute crawls by, my thoughts constantly consumed by the absence of my sweet beans, the month also appeared to speed by like an old movie reel on fast forward- tape flying everywhere, grainy images flooding my mind, black dots clouding the images, garbled sounds and static filling the rooms of my mind.  

Entire days will pass by and I will wonder if I simply dreamed those years.  The happy ones.  The busy ones. The ones where we were told so often how blessed we were, how busy we must be, and well "don't you know how this happens?" and "my goodness, are you having any more??"  

Lately, the evenings are simply the hardest for me.  I dissolve into sobs and just crawl into bed, lights on, teeth not brushed…last night Charley just laid her little body across mine as I wailed.  Then she brought me Sammy's Blue Bear and Snoopy, her now treasured sleep companions, so that I could have a night with them.  

The silence is simply deafening.  The laughter of my children is no longer the music that fills my days.  Loneliness fills the hearts of each of those of us left here waiting.

Waiting, aching, keening... to see them again.  

I wonder what it's like there.  

Do they know we miss them? 

Can they feel our sadness?  

Have they asked all of their questions? 

Do they remember us? 

Do they remember how much we loved them?  

I beg God to help me remember times I have forgotten.  I lament the years I didn't blog much.  I pray for others to share their memories and moments.  

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

Matthew 28:20

In my soul, I know He is with me.  In my soul, I will still thank Him, praise Him, bless Him.  For it is God who lent them to us, to fill our lives with laughter and joy.  Someday, He will once again fill my mouth with a song of praise and gladness.  

Because your love is better than life, 

my lips will glorify you.  

I will praise you as long as I live, 

and in your name I will lift up my hands.  

Psalm 63:3-4

He put a new song in my mouth, 

a hymn of praise to our God.  

Psalm 40:3

Please just keep praying.  Only His strength will carry us through.  

love, 

clan mac mama

  

 

I dreamed of Sammy last night...

in my arms I held him tight.
So surprised was I to feel his hug,
a deeper hole in my heart was dug.
But blessed was I to see his face,
to feel the love of his warm embrace.
I pray Mercy will soon inhabit my dreams,
giving me kisses and dancing in bright moonbeams.
When morning comes I'll still feel her kiss,
bringing with it a fleeting moment of bliss.
I'll simply never understand why,
rivers of tears I'll cry and cry.
Oh God, my God, please help me SEE,
and rest in the peace that You can be.  

A Mommy...

was really all I ever wanted to be.
But I really think it scared me for the longest time.  That thought of being responsible for another human being.  Being entrusted with a tiny little life, self, heart and soul.  How on earth could I possibly do that when most of the time I didn't seem to be doing such a bang up job for myself?

Apparently I figured some of it out and didn't let fear get in my way, since up until 6 weeks ago, I had 5 amazing, happy, blessed little people to call my own little tribe.  And, oh sweet Jesus, how I loved my little tribe.  I would have made that tribe bigger if I could have.  I adored my big family.  The chaos might have driven me crazy and the noise impaired my hearing, but it was the beautiful music that was my life.

And then I put them on an airplane, innocently unaware that I would never see 2 of them again this side of heaven.  I put them on that plane so we could get the grunt work of our bazillionth PCS move done and they could finally meet some of their Texas family.  I put them on that plane believing they would come back to me.  Safe.  Whole.  Alive.

I. was. wrong.

I never dreamed that I wouldn't hold them in my arms again.  That I'd be standing in front of Yana's in Swansboro when words that I still can't even speak bubbled from Charles' mouth.  That I would collapse in a fit of screaming and wailing and hyperventilating.  That I would never. again. feel their hearts beat against mine.
the whisper of sweet breath on my face.
the gentle snuggle of a hug.
the sweet kisses of soft lips.
the whispered "I love you, Mommy…"

Countless hours are spent every single day recounting the time that led to that trip.  Why did I send them?  Why didn't I say they weren't allowed on ATV's?  Why couldn't I just get the damn move done with them underfoot?  Other people do it!  Why didn't I?
For the love of all that is holy, why MY CHILDREN?  Why 2 of them?  Was it not enough that we should lose one?  Was it not enough to rip our hearts out once?  More than one person has said I never do anything small-why the hell did that part of who I am have to include the lives of my children?!

I want time to stop.  I don't want the world to go on and everyone else's lives to be normal.  Because mine never, ever, EVER, will again.  I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone, but in some weird twisty way, I just want time to cease.  Because maybe if it ceases, the searing pain that causes me to wail like a dead cat while I stuff myself into a tiny hammock because its the only thing that brings me peace-maybe it will cease too.  If only for a moment.  Just one moment where I don't want to die just so I can hold them again.

But I can't die.  I have 3 other blessings that will need me more now than they ever have.  The horrible things that Eva and Charley witnessed have forever changed who they are, who they will be and how they will live.  The loneliness that encompasses each of them, especially Max, has drastically altered the landscape of their formerly innocent young hearts.

My heart breaks a little more every time I look at the sweet babies I still get to hold.  And I simply beg God to work a miracle in each of them.  I beg him to fill the cracks and the holes that puncture their hearts and souls.   He is the balm that will soothe their wounds.  And someday, I pray, that He will soothe mine.

I pray for purpose.  I pray for peace.  I pray for refuge.  I pray for forgiveness and grace.
In short-I just pray.  There is simply nothing else that I can do.

The enemy will undoubtedly use our pain, sadness and anger to create more evil in a fallen world.
Franky, the choice we have is simple.  Do we let him?  Or do we allow ourselves to be refined by the fire, to be clay in His hands, to someday have our sackcloth removed and be clothed with joy as we serve Him and glorify His good purpose?

Every single day is a battle of epic proportions.
Every. single. day.

A battle that can only be won through the power of our God…
by His might,
in His strength,
for His glory.

Pray for our family, please.  Just pray.

I love you to the moon and back, Mercy & Sammy.  Mama misses you more than you'll ever know.

love,
clan mac mama