I feel the longing, deep in my soul.
I haven’t felt that ache in a long time.
It is gripping and searing hot.
Photos of mom.
A beautiful post by Ann Voskamp.
The searing, hot feeling lingers.
The tears slip down my cheek.
Oh, how I miss my mom.
I long to see her.
Her last months on this earth were agonizing.
The ravages of cancer took her appetite, strength and voice.
Yet it never touched her spirit.
Confined to a wheel chair do to lack of strength, she stood,
with arms raised high to praise our God at her grandsons baptism.
Her spirit was a gift.
Her strength a model of a life surrendered to the One who called her by name.
The searing ache and deep longing follow me as I visit my son’s grave.
The tears won’t come.
I stand for awhile.
What is this longing?
Is this ache for more than just my child?
For those gone on before us?
We are a people who were not made for death.
We were created for life; life ever lasting.
Life with our heavenly Father for all of eternity.
This is not our home.
For this world is not our permanent home;
we are looking forward to a home yet to come.
This desire is more.
The deep ache is for the things eternal.
I want to long for heaven.
I want each days focus to be heavenward.
I want to take my eyes off myself and this heavy laden life.
When I am fully surrendered, the true living begins.
I walk slowly from the grave.
I breathe in deeply.
God is holding these moments.
I turn toward the sun.
I let the warmth fill my soul.
I ache for my boy.
Our Last Mothers Day together
I ache for my mom.
But deeper still – I ache for heaven.
I ache for the time when all the pain is gone.
When wrong is made right.
When being wrong or right won’t even matter.
Being a mom is a glorious gift.
Even in the heartache there is much joy.
A joy that transcends emotions.
Whether biological or not, mothering is a journey.
A deep part of who we are.
My farmer sends me a photo.
The sky has declared the wonders of God.
Happy Mother’s Day.
(even if, as my cousin says, it’s a contrived holiday)
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.