It’s been more than half a year since your feet have walked this earth; since time stood still and my heart broke in two. I can’t believe that much time has passed. It feels like yesterday. 7 months of not my will, but thine. 7 months of learning to live a path I didn’t ask for; death, cancer, treatments, grace. We all miss you a ton. Each day dawns with thoughts of you and remembering you’re not with us. We all feel so incomplete
without you here. It’s hard to figure out how to do this walk. I miss your smile and the sound of your voice. I miss being your mom. I miss feeling whole. I am tired of my heart hurting.
Since you’ve been gone, daddy was diagnosed with cancer and has undergone radiation and chemotherapy. He has been amazing and tolerated all the treatments well. He is exhausted now and dealing with depression. Everywhere he looks are projects that the two of you were working on and are unfinished. Missing you adds to his heartache. We are blessed to live in an age where help is available. We’re loving on him and trying to get as much help as we can here for him.
This has also been 7 months of resting in who God is and how He orders our days. Because honestly Elijah, this walk without you here is really tough. Everywhere we look there are reminders of you. Reminders that your life here was incomplete; in our eyes. We long for you to be with us at the dinner table and everywhere. You were still living your life when you left us. And that is hard to live with.
You’d be proud of your siblings. This journey has been so hard with you gone and the uncertainty of daddy’s illness. While it hasn’t been perfect, everyone has really rallied to help. We have moments where everyone is cranky and out of sorts, and take their anger out on someone else. But really they have all been so intentional about trying to work out this tough walk.
I long for you to be here. But that is not the plan. I will keep stepping forward. Learning each day what it means to be in surrender to the God who called order out of chaos. We will continue to move away from “why” to “What is God’s will and what does He want us to do next.” We will talk about you and laugh. We
will lean into the remembering and not forget. I think that is part of the nightmare when you lose a child. You don’t want to forget. Not for one minute. But how could we forget you. You were unforgettable. You were respected and loved. You lit up a room with your presence and loved to perfect your arguing skills.You loved the Lord, and didn’t quite understand all that that meant. (Do any of us really completely understand?) But you wrestled and dug deeper and by faith walked. An example for all of us. While I long for you to be here. I know you are in a better place. Your journey is complete and your work finished. I don’t like this part and I never will. . . ever. But I will carry on with the journey God has for us here.
We will step forward in grace each day.