Thursday, August 9, 2012


It's been a hard week.  A week I can't wait to get through.  As much as we need the rain, and I am so grateful to have it, it's making it worse.  Rain makes me hurt ... a lot.  My peripheral nerves feel as if they are on fire and being shocked with electricity.  Not mention how the dreariness doesn't help a hurting heart.

Twenty weeks.  Twenty weeks is the halfway point of a pregnancy ... a new life is twenty weeks away from making it's appearance to the world.  I remember the excitement I felt when I reached the twenty week mark when I was pregnant with each of my girls.  Twenty weeks doesn't have any excitement attached to it today.  It's now been twenty weeks (and one day) since my Mama died.

I don't know why, but twenty weeks seems to have a huge significance to it.  I said this to Connie and her response was, "It is all significant precious friend.  To Jesus and to us who love you so much."  No doubt that text will be locked into my phone.  I'll need to read it over and over again.  

I have a friend who every Wednesday tells me she's praying for me.  Sometimes her words come in an email, and sometimes I get a sweet handwritten card in the mail.  Not only does she recognize how hard Wednesdays are for me, she also remembers how many weeks it's been.  Her kindness and love brings tears to my eyes.  In her email yesterday she referred to my Mama's death as her "homegoing".  She has always referred to it this way, but yesterday it stood out to me like she had written it in pink neon lights.  "This is a Wednesday (20 weeks ago today your Mother's homegoing) so it no doubt is another sad day.  Praying for you on Wednesdays."   Such simple words, but comforting words for my heart nonetheless.  She is such a precious friend.  One I will forever treasure.

"Homegoing."  Mama has gone home to be with Jesus.  She has gone home to worship our Saviour.  There is no doubt in my mind she's singing.  She's not hurting.  She's not wringing her hands in worry.  She's not crying from a broken heart.  Thinking of it as her "homegoing" doesn't have any sadness attached to it.  It signifies she not dead.  Her earthly body is, but she is with our Heavenly Father.  The One who loves her more than anyone else even has the capacity to love her.

So, then why, Lord, I am still so sad?  How come my heart is still bleeding, and the tears still cling to the edge of my eyes ready to fall at any given moment?  Why does it still hurt so much it's hard to breathe?  Why, Lord?  Why won't you heal my broken heart?  Why can I not rejoice in the surety I have in knowing she is with You, instead of grieving her not being with me?  Why can I not see it as her "Homegoing", instead of seeing it as her death?

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