I know what day is coming. I have a calendar. But even if I didn’t, there is plenty of advertising out there to remind me. I’m going to be honest here and tell you that I’d rather skip over Mother’s Day. Not because I don’t have a loving family who share hugs and cards and gifts because I do, and I love them dearly. But my heart still aches for one more, one whose presence is deeply missed by all of us. This post is dedicated to all surviving mothers ~ mothers who are surviving the loss of a child. We may have other children whom we love, but we have outlived one which causes us unspeakable pain.
Perhaps I should spend our time together wisely and search for kernels of truth that will provide more lasting hope than the wonderful, but temporary blessings such as bouquets and cards and invitations to dinner. No, I don’t have them on the tip of my tongue, but in the digging, God will be right there to make sure that what we unearth will be just the blessing we both need to hear to get us through this bittersweet holiday.
Just in case you are a new follower perhaps I should briefly give you a recap how I got here and to add . . . only by God’s amazing grace. I have experience horrific grief first hand by losing my firstborn son to suicide going on 9 years now. As we moms know, one can never plan ahead for grief. There is no space in the mind to allow for such a thing. Tragedy sucks the air out of our sails immediately after loss. There is no air to breathe and we’d rather there not be any. We’d rather die after their death than live.
Time has a way of ticking passed when we aren’t looking and when we don’t think it can. My world crashed on top of me when my son died. This “Humpty Dumpty” had no desire to be put back together again, ever! There was nothing left of who I was. Others wanted me back just the way I had been, but that normal had died. There would have to be a new normal, a re-creation, but I was incapable of re-creation. It was above my “pay grade” so to speak. It would have to be a miracle. Was that possible?
This is where God stepped in and made me once more. He could do it . . . and this time He would reinforce the backbone in me; I would be less shy, less “I can’t”. He would encourage me to journal my feelings for His eyes only. I would refuse. He would encouraged. I would refused. Back and forth we went until I gave in. Staring at a white PC screen ~ where were the words going to come from? But once the dam broke, it unleashed a torrent of deep pain which eventually became a book, Shattered by Suicide, My Conversations With God After the Tragic Death of My Son. Who knew this was possible? Not me. Only God knew. Only God sees the bigger picture. Only He can see what we can become in His strength.
Together, you and I, we walk this grief journey arm in arm. Unfortunately new ones join us for the gush of loss continues, but we make room. There is always room for one more. Each day we are reminded of our sorrow, but each day we are encouraged, in His strength, to survive and even thrive. Yes, thriving is possible. Hope is possible. And even joy is possible on this impossible journey.
So that is why I write. I am the least “techy” person you will ever meet. In fact, you may give me tips on how you blog so beautifully and I will eagerly accept them. I am willing to learn, but never as fast as others, much younger, learn. But God writes thru me. He asked me to be a conduit, to be His hands, feet and heart to those who follow after. The stats are so high, so tragic. There is loss to suicide ~ 99 every 66 minutes around the globe. I shudder to think of the impact this makes on families everywhere! But all death of children, no matter the cause, takes a heavy toll on parents and siblings and all who love them. All death breaks God’s heart too.
I am but a drop in the bucket, but collectively as we are able to pick ourselves up and join the human race again, we make a difference. One drop alone makes little impact, but many drops make a stream
and the stream fills many buckets.
As we face yet another holiday maybe it will be a happy one for you? I hope so. I pray so. No matter if you are surrounded with the happy faces of children or with children who have children of their own, making you a grandmother, realize the blessings that continue to flow. Like that stream, we continue to live by God’s amazing grace. We continue to live to be an inspiration to others. God can use each willing “cracked pot”, which is what I call myself. I am a cracked pot, broken by circumstances out of my control, but not out of His.
If you have yet to find a Bible text which describes your loss, you may share mine: The Lord is close to the brokenhearted [me] and saves those who are crushed in spirit [my son]. Psalm 34:18, NIV
Be encouraged by the many promises in God’s Book. It is my “go to” place when my cracked pot seems to leak faster than it fills. Perhaps these texts will encourage you as they encourage me. It is a place to start and there are many more where they come from.
What is faith? It is the confident assurance that something we want is going to happen.
It is the certainty that what we hope for is waiting for us, even though we cannot see it up ahead.
Hebrews 11:1, LB
This hope is a safe anchor for our souls. It will never move.
Hebrews 6:19, NLV