The Last Day. . .
I snapped this picture on July 27, 2013.
The college girl and youngest farm boy were headed to a week of camp.
That oldest farm boy leaned in the car window and hugged his brother.
I captured the moment.
Little did I know it would be a gift.
It was the Last day those boys would see each other.
A week later I returned to pick up those kids from camp.
That youngest farm boy headed straight for the fields.
His restless being and love for farming propelled him to jump right in.
The oldest farm boy had gone off on a shoot with a friend and his dad.
My farmer headed up to watch the shoot.
What a gift that would be.
Spent with his son.
His sons final day on this earth.
That oldest farm boy, my red headed first born came home so excited.
He had done so well.
In detail he described his time there.
Time stands still there for me.
The next 2 hours are in technicolor.
The colors are what I remember.
The color of his eyes.
I asked him not to go.
We were going to snuggle on the couch and watch, “The Princess Diaries.”
I had made pizza.
The color of the dough in contrast to the sauce.
I play the moments over and over each day.
The last day.
He walked out that door.
In the wee hours of the next morning, on his way home, he met Jesus.
He wasn’t speeding.
He wasn’t intoxicated.
He was tired.
I wrestle continually with the what if’s.
But this week I was reminded.
A person’s days are determined; you have decreed the number
of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.
Elijah was going to meet Jesus on July 28, 2013 whether I had done anything differently or not.
God is a God of purpose.
He is a God who loves and adores His children.
He has a plan.
That plan included Elijah being called home sooner than I liked.
I don’t like this plan at all.
Here it is.
So, I will continue to stand on the solid ground, rooted in the Ancient Word, strengthened by the Holy Spirit.
I will proclaim the Good News of Christ until the day I die.
I will continue to wake each morning putting God first.
Resting in His truth and promises.
Elijah, my beautiful son.
I miss you with every fiber of my being.
There was nothing in this world that I wanted more than to be a mom.
Friends from High School can tell you that.
Friends from college will echo that thought.
You gave me that gift.
And I will be forever grateful.
I am grateful for the 17 years I had with my red head.
Oh, how I wish there were more.
That is not the plan for my life.
With all that I am I will seek the plan that God chooses.
I will share the message of Hope and Redemption.
I will live with integrity and grace.
(when I don’t forget and am not being cranky. . .then I will ask for forgiveness)
The farmhouse has begun to stir.
There is breakfast to make, laundry to fold, book work to do.
In my heart I will remember this day.
My last with my son.
It was a good day.
A really good day.
The Last Day.