Friday, August 21, 2015

So, it's been a little while...

because we moved.  AGAIN.  4th temporary house in 2 months and 10 days.  It also happens to be the 2 month mark for my close pal, Cassie, in the loss of her son, Noah.  The fact that we are walking this journey together seems so surreal that I can't even find the words to describe it.  Her boys were Eva's 1st big "brothers" and they adored her.  She was one of Eva's first "friend aunts."  You know, those awesome friends who love your kids like their own even when they are little and covered in snot/vomit/poop/dirt… Now we spend inordinate amounts of time commiserating over crying in random public places, how it's even possible for a body to make that many tears and how we absolutely hate cooking/grocery shopping because it's the most tangible reminder of the holes in our lives that used to be filled with our kids.

Honestly-every single moment carries with it a reminder of what is missing from my earthly life.  The jar of still full peanut butter…because my peanut butter eaters were Mercy & Sammy.  The bananas still in the bowl, going brown…Sammy was my banana man.  The chocolate & lollipops still in the treat bin…Mercy and Sammy would corral Max into sneaking a bunch of that, and now that they aren't here, it just doesn't occur to him to sneak all the sugar in the house in the space of 15 minutes.  The single box of pasta that now feeds my family…The milk that takes so much longer to run out…The laundry piles that no longer seem to grow like gremlins…

Some days I can be thankful for the time God gave us with them.  Some days I simply can't.  Lately, it's been a whole lot of those not thankful days.  That's not to say that I'm not thankful for the time I had, I just haven't been able to wear the rose colored glasses that say, "Gee, my kids died in a horrible accident when they were 5 and 6, but I'm just SO GLAD I had that short little time with them."  Nope, not there.  Honestly, I probably never will be.  No matter how many days God planned for my sweet babies, I will never believe it was enough.   I used to think that the worst thing I'd walk through would be when either Charles or I drew our last breath and left the other behind.  I'd think about that old Kathy Mattea tune, "Where've You Been," a love song about a lifetime of commitment and marriage that makes me cry every. single. time. I hear it.  (just listened. just cried.)  I just couldn't wrap my brain around how one or the other of us would face each day alone when the time came.  It just made my heart ache.
Honestly, I'm not sure I ever even gave much thought to what it might be like after- you know, when I'm with JESUS.
Do you think about it?
Because I sure as heck do think about it now.
A lot.
I just started reading this book by Randy Alcorn, Heaven.
Did you know most believing Christians don't give much thought to Heaven?  That even some pastors avoid the subject because they themselves think our earthly world is so much more interesting and Heaven sounds awfully boring?
I used to think it sounded boring.  Seriously, who wants to float around and strum a harp all day.  Not sure where I got the idea that Heaven is harp strumming and I can fly, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one with that skewed earthly idea.
Then I started that book.
Read it.
It's not an "I died and met Jesus in a field of flowers" kind of book.
It's an honestly written, scripturally based, eye opening look into the life we are promised, the ONE ETERNAL life that makes this earthly one just a blip of time in a fallen, broken place.
You know what else it made me ponder?
How I'll spend what's left of my time here.
Who will I serve?
How will I live?

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  
Galations 6:9

Honestly, most days I do just want to give up.  Cassie probably does too.  Just getting out of bed requires monumental effort.
I. AM. WEARY.

key word- I.

I just can't do this alone.

His grace must be sufficient for me, his power will be made perfect in my weakness.  And I will boast ALL THE MORE gladly about my weaknesses, so the power of Christ will rest on me.
Only He can bandage my wounds and help me seek new hope.
I don't mean I "boast" of my sadness, but I do share it, because for some purpose only God knows, I feel so compelled to write that it's almost a physical need.  I know when I have something to say, because all of sudden I just want it to rain, I want quiet and I want to spend the day in my jammies, at this keyboard. Letting HIS voice tell me what to say.  (Nope, not a tangible whisper in the ear people, just a gentle prompting by the Holy Spirit.)

I also realized something else in the last few days.
This isn't a punishment.
(Cue thunder-I swear I've been praying for a rocking good storm and I'm hearing some rumbles…God rocks.)
I wasn't a bad mom.
I didn't fail God.
I didn't disappoint Him and he didn't take my children to prove a point.
They are with Him because He chose them.

For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.  
Ephesians 1:4

Do I believe He caused their accident?
Duh-NO.
I believe earthly choices led to a horrible situation that resulted in the death of my sweet babies.
I also believe He was with them the moment it happened.  That he took them by the hand and guided them to the place of eternal happiness, hope, and joy- HEAVEN.  

Unfortunately for all of us left behind- our hearts are broken and our lives feel shattered.  What do we do to find hope again? feel joy again?  dream new dreams?

I don't know.  So I'll do the only thing that I know will help me SEE.
I will…
Rest in Him.

And that is what I am off to do just at this moment.  I am going to listen to the sounds of His creation and pray that whatever works He has ordained for each of us in the midst of this sadness, we will open our hearts and minds to His will and His will only.  Be it His will and not my own that sets the rhythm of this "new" life.

Please keep praying.  Your words to God's heart have sustained us and given us so much peace.  Please don't stop.

All my love,
clan mac mama

 Happier times...

4 comments:

Cassie Grainger said...

We look so young! For us, milk lasts so much longer. I don't have to buy chocolate syrup by the gallon, and I'm not entirely sure we'll need to Costco Executive Membership to sustain my boys' heavy consumption of meat. Lunch money accounts have been cut in half. Clothes purchases--Gavin actually got TWO new pairs of shoes. I'm watching the seniors, to include my neice, start their last year of high school and think, "if only..." But it doesn't matter. There is no "only." Nothing changes it. There are no take-see back-sees. So, I'll walk this path on the shards of glass of my broken life. But I'm so "glad" that I have you to go through it with. It's the worst club to be in. The WORST club.

swanport said...

My oldest child was killed by another's negligence way back in 1988---only yesterday for me, still. I can only tell you that God was always with me and over the years has reaveled his presence even before my sweet child's death at 17. I prayed for a job transfer to be with my youngest, thinking I was more needed for her. Nope, God knew I needed to commute daily with my oldest to the same school, to have wonderful, treasured conversations and to talk about life's big questions as he grew from 10th grade through 12th. I pray He will reveal those blessings with which you were gifted and be able to live in God's merciful grace with the deepest loss any parent can have. I can say that for over 10 years, as I went to the bathroom each morning. looked in the mirror, I wondered how I could look so much the same when inside I was totally different. The journey to live with loss is not short...so give yourself all the time you need to be sad, angry, tearful, in a fog and in anguish--just remember to talk to those who loved your children and let them know it means alot to you that they are not forgotten and you love to talk about them. May joy inch its way into your heart again for God is present and loving you

Ms. MaryAnn said...

Don't know what to say, except I feel your pain...that consuming pain that is all-encompassing. I am amazed that you even have the strength to write down your feeings, but I know that this will help you to heal. God is an awesome God, your children are with him. Your faith is SO strong. I keep you and your family in my prayers each day.


Libby said...

I don't know you or your family. A mutual military friend of ours had shared your story. I have read some of your blog posts and my heart breaks for your loss. I truly cannot imagine what you are going through. I do believe it must be God's grace and mercy that enable a parent to endure such tragedy. I debated about whether to leave a comment and decided that if this in any way eases even the slightest pain you might feel today than it was worth it. Praying for your peace and strength and your faith inspires me.