Sometimes I feel like King David. One minute I am crying out in agony asking the LORD "how long", and the next I am praising Him for His promise to give me the grace to endure this unrelenting pain. I don't know how people who don't know Him get through tragedy. I couldn't. I can see how anger and bitterness would quickly set up, not to mention how the pain would be all consuming. I'd be frozen, unable to function at all. Even with His grace at times the pain is seemingly unbearable.
The oddest things send me into complete melt down mode. I have a friend who lost her mother not long ago warn me that would happen. She was so honest when she told me what to expect. I often go back and read her email to see if what I'm feeling is "normal".
But then again, who knows what "normal" really means.
It's been exactly two weeks since I heard my Mama say, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." In some ways it seems like it was just yesterday, but it also feels like it's been years since I heard her voice.
I miss her more today than I did yesterday. I tell the Lord every day I just want my Mama back. Selfishly, I do. I want to be able to tell her I'm sorry for being short with her at times. I want to be able to hear her tell me the same things over and over again, and for me to be able to say, "Mama, you've told me this 50 times already." Then she would laugh and say, "Oh ... well", only to turn around 15 mins later and repeat herself again.
I want her back, but like my brother reminded me yesterday, she wouldn't come back if she could. And really, we wouldn't want her to come back either.
She's with Jesus. She's living in Paradise.
That gives me great comfort.
Sometimes I allow my mind to wonder if she realized what was happening to her just before she died. I can get very overwhelmed with the thoughts of wondering what happened in her last few hours. It panics me knowing she was alone. I wish she had called someone. I wish we had taken her to the doctor. I wish ...
I wish so many things would have happened that day.
But like my brother said yesterday, we could have taken her to the doctor and she still would have died. I told him part of me would at least have the peace of knowing we had done all we could. He quickly reminded me nothing happens without passing through the hands of God first. It was her time to be called home.
As Ralph said to me the just hours after she died, "It's a hard providence."
But the Lord continues to be faithful. Just when I wonder how I am going to get through the next moment, He's already given me the grace to do it. He has surrounded me with friends and family who are calling, emailing and texting all day long telling me they are praying ... wanting to know what they can do to help. Some drop by just to sit with me for a few minutes and pray with me. Some of them have experienced the loss of a parent ... some have lost both parents, so they know how hard this is.
I have friends who are sending me scripture after scripture to remind me the Lord is faithful ... He'll carry me through this.
And I wonder if they realize He's using them to accomplish that?
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
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I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene. Your blog has become my "Joni" morning devotional. love you.
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