I miss you so much.
They are coming out with a new Star Wars movie.
The products are all over the place.
It’s been so fun to look – at all the stuff.
To remember when I was a kid.
But then. . .
I got to the Lego aisle.
And I still can’t stop the racking sobs.
They threaten to undo me.
Our last Christmas together you got a Star Wars Lego kit.
You were a Senior in High School.
Enlisted in the United States Marine Corps.
Yet the one item you pulled yourself away from the family for was, a lego set.
Bought on a whim.
Yet so loved.
It sat on the piano until you met Jesus.
Someone cleaned up.
They didn’t know that you would have put that together 7 months prior.
That I left it there to remind me of you.
When we were mourning and rejoicing over Nana’s homegoing.
I can still so vividly see you on the floor.
Your large hands manipulating those pieces together.
Me calling you over to finish opening presents.
But all you wanted was to put the Legos together.
Oh how I long for you.
It is a cruel twist of circumstances that leave a mama without her boy.
And while I trust with all of my being in the God of the Universe.
My soul aches for you.
My red head.
I long to fill your stocking with all the fun lego pieces.
I long to talk to you about the movie.
To hear all your thoughts and criticisms.
To enjoy the hype.
But those things have been torn from me.
Leaving a hole and an ache; crater size.
I bought pajamas’s for everyone to wear on Christmas Eve; minus your pair.
In the quiet of the morning I shed these tears.
I fall to my knees as I gasp for air the pain so intense.
But I can’t stay here.
I can’t remain.
This beautiful tree in the parlor of your ancestors.
Is a symbol of light.
The light that came into the world.
Light that penetrated the darkness. . .
To save us.
To restore and cleanse us.
The future and hope of all Nations.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
He took on sin so we can live.
But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.
We have hope in the form of a child.
A promise given.
One day, my dear son, I will see you again.
I don’t know what it will look like.
I don’t really understand.
But I have the blessed assurance.
Until then. . . .
I ache for you with all of my being.
Yet I will place my feet firmly on the ground.
I will step into Truth.
I will not be blinded by the lies that threaten to pull me under.
With each breath I have here I will strive to live as Christ commands.
It is not about me.
It’s not about making sure I am happy.
It has nothing to do with me.
It is all about the surrendering.
The journey to the Manger.
Laying before him my gifts and treasures.
To be used.
For His Glory.
That He might receive All Praise and Honor.
The journey to the Cross.
Where Once for All was given.
The assurance for all Eternity.
This you know my dear Elijah.
This you all understand now.
I pray that God will strengthen my weary heart.
That I may remain faithful until I am called home.
Until then my dear, precious son.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”