Learning to let go when you want to hold on tight.
The future torn from you.
Death.
The silent thief.
Knows no boundaries. Respects no heart.
We, a people, not meant for death.
Created for life.
Abundantly.
The searing pain rips through.
Again, and again.
A walk past the room.
A graduation cap and gown.
The sound of a siren.
Again, and again, the pounding pain. He is no longer here. He is no longer here.
There are no coming homes.
I do not cook his favorite meal.
I write no letters and receive none in return.
The pain like a knife.
We are human.
We are made in His image. Therefore my pain is real.
He was my son.
Never forgotten.
Always missed.
A piece of me.
Gone.
Awaiting the reunion with great anticipation.
Longing for the moment to see Him again.
Pushing to put Christ over my son.
My yearning for heaven is Jesus. Not Elijah.
But in all honesty the desire is for my child.
I held him and rocked him.
I watched him grow,
I saw him cross the threshold from High School to manhood.
How does one let go when you want to hold on tight?
You let go to God. Give rest to your soul. Isaiah 41:10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
You seek peace in each corner.
Cry out in prayer.
Because letting go, when you want to hold on tight. . . is hard.
But having a piece of him back is exhilarating.
I miss his handlebar mustache. A different thief at work.
Radiation and Chemo stealing unknown fragments along the way.
Sometimes we don't know what we're missing until it's gone.
These have been days of learning to appreciate all I have. I Thessalonians 5:16-18 Rejoice always,pray without ceasing,give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.
What I have, may not be what I want.
The lessons of life learned through the trials.
Each day a journey to the heart of God.
Seeking how to live when the searing pain a constant companion.
Even the darkest days God showed his immeasurable strength.
He seeks communion with his people.
He longs for our company.
We're still on a road that is challenging.
It is not a path I have chosen.
It is the one placed before me.
My heart yields to the lessons God wishes to impart.
It is His will I seek.
Learning to walk in His ways is my greatest desire.
He is giving us peace and strength for the way, one moment at a time.
We all have a road to walk.
The stories you all share have been such an encouragement along the way.
What has your journey been? Do you long to tell your story.
We tell our story, which ultimately tells His.
We have had so many praying for us. Won't you let me pray for you?
Maybe ours really isn't that bad, I start to think.
The frame broke years ago. So there is a wee bit of a sag.
Years ago, as well, the seams separated after the buttons popped off.
Stuffing spills all over clothes and intertwines with your hair.
The metal springs are exposed.
Yet, still usable.
These couches were made to last. Workmanship honored.
Quality instilled in the designers.
So I bought a nice couch cover.
I have extended it's life.
Isn't that what a farmer's wife does?
But someone wants to bless us with a new couch.
I have had this one all my married life.
Bought used, of course, from a neighbor; with the help of my mother in law.
She always found a deal. My Sister in law has this knack too.
She has found a few couches that would be good choices.
But I hem and haw.
Unlike others, parting with anything, is difficult for me.
This couch holds the memories of my mom and all our children.
They were sick and happy on this couch.
They watched Barney, Tele tubbies and Psalty snuggled into the cushions.
We've had serious discussions and heart to hearts.
Brawls comparable to a bar room all out, have taken place, on the couch.
After tubbies we have gathered blankets and relaxed in the comfort.
Chelsea rested on the couch after her wisdom teeth.
I recovered from a C-section with Elijah.
I nursed Clarissa and all my babies in the wee hours of the morning on that couch.
I called the doctor while sitting on that couch in Labor with Cedric.
Countless babies have napped in the comfort of that couch.
Endless youth have been found many a night hearing God's word told,
watching a movie or playing x-box.
So to dispose of it seems a betrayal.
My boy sat on that couch.
Years of evening devotions happened on that couch.
Night after night, year after year, Gary would read God's word, poured into the souls of children.
Hope and joy passed through the ages.
The truth that Elijah embraced and now with full assurance resides with the King of Kings.
Our grandchild has now enjoyed the comfort of this couch.
Change is hard for me. Can you tell? It's only a couch.
But it's a purchase.
We don't take those lightly.
There are many others that would love to have this couch, even with it's age.
So, stay tuned for the saga of the couch.
Will a couch purchase prevail?
2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.
It's an act of love someone wants to bestow.
This is still hard.
Listening to this song right now. .
Blessed.
We bring the Kingdom Come. With every act of love, Jesus help us carry you, Alive in us your light shines through.
My anger is directed at no one in particular.
The tender soul of the blue eyed girl receives the brunt.
I feel out of sorts. And lashing out is my first reaction.
Those words can not be taken back.
No matter how deeply I ask for forgiveness.
They came out. I Corinthians 13:4-6 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
They were in my sin ladened heart.
It's the forgiveness I sought.
But it wasn't forth coming.
She was hurt.
And my words; the one's asking for forgiveness meant nothing.
The others were piercing and that's what she's thinking. How we need to watch our words.
Proverbs 16:24 Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.
Words that can encourage and breathe life.
Not painful, hurtful, biting remarks. Psalm 119:103 How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!
My heart constricts at her coldness.
I offended my sweet daughter and I feel awful.
She unwilling to forgive. We both have lessons to learn.
Raw emotions leave us open for hurt.
Unwilling to let go.
I gaze into those baby blue eyes brimming with tears.
How could I let the words fly?
How could I hurt this tender soul?
Sometimes I just want off of this spinning journey we call life. I can't seem to do it right.
The stress of the day and the tierney of the urgent reek havoc with my sense of calm.
So when I blow, it's a mess.
These are the moments Jesus shows up.
He reminds us of our sin and brokenness. He also reminds us of how much we have been forgiven. Because we aren't always going to get it right.
We aren't always going to say the right thing.
But we are a forgiven people.
God in his mercy extended grace.
I will not always be forgiven by my children.
I will not always get it right.
But I will always be loved and cherished by the One who created me.
I am a work in progress. A broken pot. (Yes very cracked)
But not beyond repair.
Jesus longs to reach down and fix it all.
At the end of the day. When the exhaustion has taken over and the mist of sleep is heavy.
I whisper to the blue eyed child again. I am sorry. So sorry.
She reaches up, gazes into my eyes, and hugs me tight. Colossians 3:13 Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
We really could use a little precipitation.
The grass will green up quickly.
We are running short on feed.
With the new calculations it looks like we have 10 days of feed left.
10 days left of the harvest that held our son.
His hand in the work.
The final pieces of summers bounty, ending.
Another piece to the puzzle.
Another added expense.
I watch my farmer husband as he shares the news.
We need feed.
He doesn't react.
Years of volatility in this business have hardened him to reactions.
Faith in an unwavering God leaves him grounded.
It is me who does the wild screaming dance and shouting and stewing. There's a twinkle in the farmer's eye. He's feeling a bit better.
For now. We will wait.
Decisions made in haste can cause much waste.
In waiting, he will call and see what feed is available.
In waiting he will check over every pasture thoroughly.
While waiting he will analyze each aspect of the feeding production.
He will fix a mower, order parts, change the oil and clean out the office, while waiting. Because waiting is the farming way.
The strong, resilient resolve.
They weather any storm.
Persevere through the toughest conditions.
Find beauty in the ashes.
A way where there seems to be none.
Hope.
Isaiah 43:19
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
An inner peace permeates his being.
It is one of the things that drew me to him.
He was strong and silent. It intrigues me even after 20 years.
How can a man be so quiet?
His energy is spent in prayer, not ranting.
Because of course I have done enough of that (the ranting part).
He listens instead of reacts.
Because my chatter, I am sure leaves him dumbfounded.
He loves rather than condemns.
A life marching to the beat of the Savior's drum.
So we will wait.
We will pray.
It is the farming way.
