Unspoken fears...

in the loss community, there are a million different ways we cope with our fears about our living children.  Some talk it about it all the time, others never at all, and many fall somewhere in between.  I'm in the never category.  I almost never mention that persistent and powerful terror that lies just below the surface of my soul, the needling sensation that something will happen to one of the precious children I still have on earth.
Last night, my dreams were filled with the most awful images and sounds, the true stuff of nightmares about my Max.
And I truly believe it was the lies and deception of the enemy, the crafty and cruel way he torments us when he senses we are drawing nearer to God.
Because so often in this awful journey, I've withdrawn from God.  I've cut Him off and shut Him out.  Because I simply couldn't wrap my brain around how or why He would allow not just me, but my husband and my children to suffer so greatly.  To bear such pain and live with this immense grief.
BUT.
Because the God who loves us and never leaves us has always been by my side even when I refused to acknowledge it, my heart has once again softened and sought Him.  I find myself seeking Him in prayer all day, every day.  Waking with Him on my mind and drifting to sleep as I confide in Him.
And the enemy sees this and hates it.
So he attacks me in the place I am so vulnerable that it causes me physical pain to even consider the what-if.
What if another of my children leaves me?
Lately, Max wakes in the night often.  He wanders in to our room, just needing a little hug and to be tucked back in.  He's never done that before, always sleeping soundly and waking like a chipper little bird by 7 am at the latest.
But do you know what?
In the 6 months before they left us, Sam and Mercy constantly woke in night seeking our hugs, our snuggles, our prayers- and just wanting to be tucked back in.
It feels like groundhog day around here, only now I have the worst. fears. realized. aspect to add to my plate.
Today, I'm going to have to choose again.
Do I let the fear win and the enemy triumph?
Or do I trust the One who, even when I push, shove and curse,  never leaves my side?
You might think it's a simple choice-even an easy one.
I promise you, it's not.  It's BEYOND not easy.
I want to go back to bed.  Curl up under my covers and hide.  Cry my eyes out and shut everyone out.  I'm so tired, so very tired.  Mama grief and all it's parts are simply eviscerating-because it feels like my heart has literally been ripped and removed from my body.  And I'm left with these pieces of pain that slowly stitch back together into a jagged little heart that pumps its fear and longing all through my soul every single day.
And the enemy knows this.
...SO. DO. I.
I'm choosing trust today.
But-I need my army of prayer warriors to cover that little man of mine and my sweet girls with so many prayers. And I need prayers-ones that will shield my soul a little from these attacks and give me some peace and some rest.
I desperately need that rest.

For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” Isaiah 30:15 

love,
clan mac mama