In a moment he was gone.
Accident.
Death.
Wake.
Funeral.
All words connected to my child.
What do you call a parent who has lost a child?
Who am I?
I am broken hearted.
I ache from deep within.
Year 3 of Christmas without my boy.
Year 4 without my mom.
I am decking the halls.
Playing Christmas music.
Remembering.
Remembering.
Every ornament I pull out I am reminded.
His name; the year.
Given by my mom.
Given by my mom.
I quiet the onslaught of grief.
The lights of the tree twinkle gaily.
The lights of the tree twinkle gaily.
A Season I have tried to control; corral every year.
Expectations of beauty, warmth, joy.
Expectations of beauty, warmth, joy.
A season of waiting and preparation.
Birth.
Life.
Bought with a price.
Holiness.
Truth.
Grace.
Mercy.
Mercy.
The God of the Universe becoming incarnate.
For me.
For you.
He took on flesh that we might live.
He willingly stepped into humanity knowing the grief he would endure.
Mary bore the boy child.
Knowing he was destined for more than she understood.
She gave.
She trusted.
She waited.
This Advent Season may find you joyous and grateful
far beyond your wildest imagination.
Or it may find you empty; yearning for more.
Living with a deep ache.
Who am I?
My identity lies not in the things around me.
It is not defined by my children or husband.
I am a child of the living God.
I am loved beyond anything that I can fathom.
I am rooted in Christ.
Bought with the blood.
Justified.
Sanctified.
That. Is who I am.
May you pause this season to open your eyes.
Be present in the moment.
Ready to see what God with do.
How he will show up.
While you wait.
While you wait.
I believe God has been showing me this very thing.
When I want to crawl back into bed;
to let the world around me continue on.
My heart aching with the longing of that which I can not have.
He beckons me to come.
Come sit in His presence.
Commune with Him.
Eyes wide open to see.
The miracle he will do.
In your heart and mine.
When the world is crazy over gun shots and violence.
When the news brings nothing but heartache.
He reaches in and whispers,
Be Still my child.
Be Still my child.
I am here.
These events that are coming to pass have all slipped between my fingers before they came to be.
He calls us to be obedient.
To dig deep.
To love our neighbor.
To walk in love with those around us.
This Season of Waiting and Preparation can be that.
Find ways to give.
Find ways to give.
Show up to the hurting and hopeless.
With every Act of Love we Bring the Kingdom Come -Jason Gray
Let’s be different.
From deep within.
Let’s be different.
From deep within.
Psalm 95:6
Come, let us bow down in worship,
let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;
O Come All Ye Faithful
Chris Tomlin
I decorated, it keeps my hands and mind busy, but feels so empty.
I got a small christmas tree to put at her grave site and then to plant in our yard when the holidays are over. Do you have any special things that you do for or in honor of your son? My daughter always loved to make cards and hand them out to patients in the nursing home, so I was thinking of doing that for her, this year.
Debbie
Sweet friend. It is so hard isn't it? The memories all interwoven in the fabric of who we are. The cards sound like such a lovely way to honor your daughter. .. yet also give. So that she keeps on giving. We have established a Memorial Fund that we have presented 2 scholarships so far. We hope to offer more and attempt some other ways of giving as well.