Mirror, mirror
I want to think.
And, I don't want to think.
I want to know
and, I don't want to know.
She stunned me with her bravery. We were at a prayer retreat. We were praying for each other, the world and whatever came up.
She brought a letter out and through her tears said it was from her daughter, in jail. There were a few gasps but not from me. I wanted to hold her. To tell her I understood. I felt her pain and I admired her bravery.
My babies have stumbled too. In different ways. In different paths but, no less dangerous. There have been days, week and months I didn't know if one of my children were alive or dead. Then, when I did hear from them ... it wasn't always good news.
No, I didn't gasp when she pulled the letter out and asked us to pray. I prayed. Later, I did my best to encourage her. I was looking in the mirror.
Everyone thinks their pain is the worst, the hardest, the ultimate and I guess I am no different. I have been betrayed, I have been cheated on, I have been abandoned, I have been cast out and cast aside ... but nothing ... nothing comes close to comparing to the pain of watching my baby being destroyed ... by their own hand.
It's excruciating. It's the heart's equivalent to "nails on the chalk board" that doesn't stop. You want to beat your head on the wall, pull your hair out and scream until you are hoarse all the while the world seems to not comprehend and expects you to smile and "get past it".
I remember telling her I would pray for her and her daughter.
I guess that's why, somehow, I feel like I failed her.
Tonight my brave friend is dealing with the news her daughter has died in a horrible fire ... one that also took her daughter's five children. Six ... six babies ... gone to Heaven.
I can't think.
I can't think about it ... I don't know how I can process it.
It's as if the "nails on chalkboard" ended .... silence ... that eerie high pitched tone silence ...
Six babies ... six babies ... have left us. Yes, they are in an amazing and wonderful place. Whatever they endured they were instantly transported to their Heavinly Father and the greatest Love in the Universe but ... we're still here. We're still hurting ... and now my brave friend is somehow navigating through a maze of grief to do what no parent or grandparent should ever do ... bury her babies ... babies .... six beautiful babies ... the world has lost their gifts, their callings, their futures and their love.
So what's the point of this blog. I'm not sure. To help me process my grief. I know I don't have a right to be grieved. They weren't my babies ... but they so easily could have been. I look in a mirror and I see my beautiful daughter .... my heartbeat, my grandchildren ... it so easily could have been.
I can't seem to stop the tears now and yet I can't define why I am crying. I didn't know her daughter. I didn't know her children. I cry for her, for their family, for what we've all lost by their deaths and I cry for me .... I cry in grief for the shared pain ... I cry for the good times I've lost with my children. The birthdays, holidays, movie nights, picnics, pedicures, go cart rides, fairs, and just "hanging out". Years of alienation with no end in sight.
I don't compare my pain to hers. I know it sounds that way but, I would never do that. I still have life, I still have hope.
My brave friend has hope too just in a different way. She has the hope of Heaven. We can all have the hope of Heaven by trusting in Jesus sacrifice. My children have trusted. They have chosen lives (some of them) very differently from the Word of God but, they all trusted in Jesus at an early age and still claim their salvation.
Now her daughter and her grandchildren are in her future. They can not be in her present, anymore. They have moved to Heaven where we all will be, one day. I will meet them. I will see them and more importantly I will see my brave friend embracing them.
What can we do, Father? What more can we do ... to protect our children? To keep them from sins awful entanglements ... to keep them safe.
We are all looking in the mirror ... we are all seeing ourselves reflected in her pain.
Give us wisdom, Holy Spirit. Help our unbelief, Jesus. Give us Your love, Father.
In Jesus name, Amen.
And, I don't want to think.
I want to know
and, I don't want to know.
She stunned me with her bravery. We were at a prayer retreat. We were praying for each other, the world and whatever came up.
She brought a letter out and through her tears said it was from her daughter, in jail. There were a few gasps but not from me. I wanted to hold her. To tell her I understood. I felt her pain and I admired her bravery.
My babies have stumbled too. In different ways. In different paths but, no less dangerous. There have been days, week and months I didn't know if one of my children were alive or dead. Then, when I did hear from them ... it wasn't always good news.
No, I didn't gasp when she pulled the letter out and asked us to pray. I prayed. Later, I did my best to encourage her. I was looking in the mirror.
Everyone thinks their pain is the worst, the hardest, the ultimate and I guess I am no different. I have been betrayed, I have been cheated on, I have been abandoned, I have been cast out and cast aside ... but nothing ... nothing comes close to comparing to the pain of watching my baby being destroyed ... by their own hand.
It's excruciating. It's the heart's equivalent to "nails on the chalk board" that doesn't stop. You want to beat your head on the wall, pull your hair out and scream until you are hoarse all the while the world seems to not comprehend and expects you to smile and "get past it".
I remember telling her I would pray for her and her daughter.
I guess that's why, somehow, I feel like I failed her.
Tonight my brave friend is dealing with the news her daughter has died in a horrible fire ... one that also took her daughter's five children. Six ... six babies ... gone to Heaven.
I can't think.
I can't think about it ... I don't know how I can process it.
It's as if the "nails on chalkboard" ended .... silence ... that eerie high pitched tone silence ...
Six babies ... six babies ... have left us. Yes, they are in an amazing and wonderful place. Whatever they endured they were instantly transported to their Heavinly Father and the greatest Love in the Universe but ... we're still here. We're still hurting ... and now my brave friend is somehow navigating through a maze of grief to do what no parent or grandparent should ever do ... bury her babies ... babies .... six beautiful babies ... the world has lost their gifts, their callings, their futures and their love.
So what's the point of this blog. I'm not sure. To help me process my grief. I know I don't have a right to be grieved. They weren't my babies ... but they so easily could have been. I look in a mirror and I see my beautiful daughter .... my heartbeat, my grandchildren ... it so easily could have been.
I can't seem to stop the tears now and yet I can't define why I am crying. I didn't know her daughter. I didn't know her children. I cry for her, for their family, for what we've all lost by their deaths and I cry for me .... I cry in grief for the shared pain ... I cry for the good times I've lost with my children. The birthdays, holidays, movie nights, picnics, pedicures, go cart rides, fairs, and just "hanging out". Years of alienation with no end in sight.
I don't compare my pain to hers. I know it sounds that way but, I would never do that. I still have life, I still have hope.
My brave friend has hope too just in a different way. She has the hope of Heaven. We can all have the hope of Heaven by trusting in Jesus sacrifice. My children have trusted. They have chosen lives (some of them) very differently from the Word of God but, they all trusted in Jesus at an early age and still claim their salvation.
Now her daughter and her grandchildren are in her future. They can not be in her present, anymore. They have moved to Heaven where we all will be, one day. I will meet them. I will see them and more importantly I will see my brave friend embracing them.
What can we do, Father? What more can we do ... to protect our children? To keep them from sins awful entanglements ... to keep them safe.
We are all looking in the mirror ... we are all seeing ourselves reflected in her pain.
Give us wisdom, Holy Spirit. Help our unbelief, Jesus. Give us Your love, Father.
In Jesus name, Amen.
Comments
Post a Comment