Will I Ever Be Whole Again?

I just want off this road. I don't want to live without our son. We invest so much in our kids.
 We thrill at their successes and mourn at their losses.
Our days are ordered around their life as we watch them become all they can be.
Our family is a unit. Each with it's unique function; making us whole.
Our dream is for them to be all they can be in Christ.
We long for them to make this world a better place.
To bring change to this hurting world.
To be Jesus to the lost. 

To share hope. 

And when that dream is dashed; torn from you. 
We don't feel whole any more.
There is a huge void.
People say oh, you're healing.
I want to say how? How do you heal from losing your son?
What does that mean?
Where do we go? How do we move forward?
I think that we never heal. Things just change. Nothing can ever take the place of your child. 
There will always be a piece of you missing. Every moment of every day. 

Time continues its march. 

The days pass by. 

Birthdays, holidays.

All moving on. 

I continue, as if in a fog; though that fog has begun to lift. 

Ever so slowly. 

The veil pulled back just enough to make it through the day. 

And it's hard. 

I don't want to face each day without him. 

Everywhere there are reminders of his life. They are sweet reminders.
Yet they are reminders of all that is gone. Each time I drive by the accident site, another reminder.
 I gather all these reminders.
 I hold them tight.
And I remember to walk into the promises God has laid out before us.
I want to see beauty from these ashes.
I am broken. A part of me will never, ever be the same.
I am weak. And it is in that weakness that He is strong.
It is where His extravagant grace is manifested.

2 Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, 
for my power is made perfect in weakness." 

He will never leave us nor forsake us. 

I will continue to pray as I pass the accident site. 

Each picture I see I will remember to praise God for the time I had. 

The gift given; for only a time. 

As the memories come flooding in, I will remember, this is not our home. 

We are destined for heaven. It is there that we are complete.
It is there that there will be no heart ache and no more pain. 

I don't know why God took our son. I don't know why Gary has cancer. 

But I do know that we serve a living God.
I do know that we have been carried by the wings of prayer from this community,
from friends and strangers. We continue to be cared for in so many ways.
So even when I am broken. When I long for things to be different.

I will hold on tight.
And I will offer my broken hallelujah. . .