November 28, 2008
Oh, my Father, once again old and new collide. Yesterday was so very hard, yet today brings bright hope for tomorrow.
It is so strange – today I will sit at my brother’s house, probably in my pajamas, and have a wonderful, relaxing day with my children and family. The whole time knowing that all throughout America people will hear Christmas In Heaven for the first time. It is a song that will stop them in their tracks. They will be pierced by the lyric of it and it will stick with them forever. I know this because I have experienced that firsthand and I am now receiving testimonies of the power of the song on almost a daily basis. Today, over 250 radio stations all across this great land will begin playing Christmas in Heaven. Oh, Lord, please bless it! Please! Please draw people into it and please compel them to find it and buy it. Lord, may I be so bold as to ask that this be the song that puts me on the map. Today, there is much, much evidence of the new . . . the good . . . excitement!
Yet, yesterday was marked with tremendous pain from a past that I can no longer call my future! This is NOT how I would want this, yet, my sweet Lord, I submit and find refuge in You. My days are so much better now, emotionally, that I thought perhaps I would make it through the day without much fuss. That, was not the case. By nine a.m. I stood weeping in the kitchen, my heart absolutely breaking for my beloved who is not here. Oh, how I miss him! I long for the future we had planned. I ache for my sweet children who’s daddy is in Heaven – not here on Earth to be all that they need him to be. How ironic that as I stood weeping it was those precious, wonderful little vessels of Chad that came and stood under me, arms wrapped around me, and held me as I wept for their daddy. And my heart broke – the questions. The pain. I miss him so very much. I weep and mourn for three wonderful babies who no longer have their daddy.
Why do they have to hold ME as I weep for their daddy? Why do our hearts have to break like this? As a mama, I worry – how are they really doing? I know and understand what this means in their little lives . . . I see the whole picture. But, how are they really? They all continue to go to counseling. Abbi wants to stop going, well, she never wanted to go to begin with. But it is my duty to make sure they get through this with their emotional self intact. Perhaps they go more for my peace of mind than for theirs. This way I know that there is always an outlet for their pain and questions. If I can’t make sense of it – how in Heaven’s name can they?
My heart breaks for them. Why? Abbi needs a daddy here to show her how a man should treat her. I am so thankful – ah, yes, it puts a smile on my face – that the very last thing her daddy taught her was how to let a boy down easily. What a beautiful thing! Thank you, Lord! And my boys – my sweet, tender, intuitive Noah – who is so, so much like his daddy. He needs a daddy here to play Lego’s with him and to usher him through all the changes that lay ahead for his body and his emotions. And precious little Micah – how in the world can this baby possibly make sense of any of this? My goal is just to work as hard as I can to keep his daddy’s memory alive for him. Oh, Lord! Thank you that you wired Micah the way you did . . . please keep vivid ALL of the memories that he has of his beloved daddy. Lord, thank you for the men . . .the men who have risen to the occasion and been daddy’s to my babies throughout this past year. Thank you! Please bless them all!
Father, please give me the wisdom and strength to guide these babies through all of this. I love when they hold me – and yet, I hate it! I need to be the strong one – and yet, I am thankful that they have seen me mourn and weep for the love of my life.
I see signs of their mourning in other ways . . . Micah still needs me throughout the night. Oh, Lord, You know that we were never a ‘family bed’ family. Micah starts out in his own bed, but usually by Midnight he has crawled in and is snuggling with me. He tries to crawl inside my skin, I think. Several times throughout the night he will look for my hand . . . his little hand searching to find it. When he finds it he wraps his little fingers around my thumb and holds on, usually with an “I love you” to follow. Often times I will wake up with his head on my chest – I know that he is listening for my heart. He knows his daddy’s heart stopped . . . and I know he finds peace in listening to mine. Oh, father, please be his refuge. Please give this baby peace as he wrestles with a beast so much bigger than his almost eight little years. Please shelter him.
Father, I must say, that I am amazed. I am amazed at the peace. Your word promises it. Over and over it tells us to rest in you . . . to present our requests to You and You will give us peace . . . .to know that You are our refuge. Yet, through this storm that has been so big, and dark, and painful, and engulfing . . . You HAVE been a refuge. I do not understand it . . . I do not know how it works . . . .but I am thankful. Thank You, Lord, for being my refuge and strength. Thank you for granting my soul ‘rest’ when my body and emotions are weak beyond weak. Thank you for granting to me a peace that goes so far beyond anything that my understanding can figure out.
Please, God, be all of that to my precious children. Please be their refuge. Please help me, as their mama, to demonstrate to them, all that You are. Please help me to be their mama AND their daddy. Please complete us, Lord. Please prepare us for all that lies ahead. Oh, God, please send them a new daddy and me a new beloved. That is the prayer of a widow’s heart . . . that is the prayer of a mama’s heart. We submit to You, oh God. Lord, may You get the glory.