I walk room to room. Picking up. Putting away. The way of a mom. The things that never seem to make it to its home. Though, I confess, not everything has a home. Why do I not look at the task with joy? I pick up a jacket. I look. It is my first born sons. I hold it. I breathe in deep; searching for him. This is so unfair. I can't make sense of this loss. Today another mom buries her son. The victim of an angry fight. My heart aches for this mom I have never met. I hug the jacket close. The girls come in from the barn and I am drawn into the here and now. Their laughter ... View Post
Learning How to Walk a Path I Do Not Like
The Anniversary date approaches. Forever etched in my mind. The week has been rough. Emotional. Out of sorts. The day it happened; a Sunday. The morning my farmer walked into church. Picked up the drum seat "a throne"; and shared that our son now was in the presence of the King of Kings. Who sits on His Throne. The gracious and Holy God. I feel numb when I think of those wee hours in the morning. The police. Flashing blue lights. Darkness. No power. I can feel the shock that crept like a thief through my whole body. My farmer and now only son heading to the barn. Me ... View Post
Saying, “Yes”, When You Want to Scream, “No”
Elijah. They say his name. Cleaning out a closet they find something that was his. Elijah. I just want to hear his name called. I miss saying it. You see when your son is taken. Things change. So when they mention his name. My heart skips a beat. 17 years of memories. His future just beginning. Hope. I long for that which I can not have. We're going to the drive in. A place I have avoided. A place I have tried to find excuses not to go. So far. It's ... View Post
Forced Seclusion Begins a Much Needed De-Cluttering
I'm forced to seclusion. My allergies overpowering. My air conditioned bedroom; my reprieve. Haying, lawn mowing, beautiful blossoms; all causing me discomfort. So, I head to my bedroom. On a gloriously sunny day. I am forced to look at the clutter. The piles of clothes. The boxes of paper. Most of it needing to go. I begin the process. Cards sent when our world shattered. When our first born son was called to glory at 17. When cancer threatened to take a good man down. When the joy thief knocked ... View Post
Reconstructing
Reconstructing. Each day. How to do dinner. What the table looks like. His car in the driveway. All how to live without my son. Each day.Learning. The path. God has ordained. Not my will. But His. And so I learn. While my heart misses. I open my heart to the will of the Father. A young teen plays Elijah's drum set at church. A young man unaware of the story. Playing to Worship. The same God. All for His Glory. So I learn, to trust more. Rest where there is chaos. Quiet when ... View Post
The Boys
The farm boy; my only boy. I used to say boys. A moment; forever changed. My brothers, always called "the boys." Mom's words echo; "have you talked to the boys?" Grown men with families. The boys. Naturally I began to call my sons; the boys. I loved calling them that. I loved having 2 boys. They fought. Tousling. Angry. Dominance. Fists clenched. War. Strength. Awful. Until. Maturity. Alliance. Friendship. Early on it was as cohorts against ... View Post
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