Mourn with those who mourn

This morning I read this article purley by chance, putting my selfpity into perspective. It is from a great e-newsletter called "The Imperfect Parent" Be real- I want to strive to suffer and rejoice with those around me. Relating in the emotion, not a fix or a feel better......sharing the burden.

Not Another Flower By Alice J. Wisler Print this article | Email this article Photo: Ralf Hirsch There was a day when the sun ceased to shine. You may have missed it; it didn’t make the headlines of any national paper. February 2, 1997, to most, was only Groundhog Day. For me, it was nothing as trite as whether the furry creature did or did not see his shadow. Forget the promise of spring, what did it matter now? My life as I dreamed it stopped when my four-year-old laid lifeless in my arms. How I remember those early months after his death. I wanted to be like my Victorian ancestors and wear black, even a veil. Then my clothes could shout to my neighbors, those in the grocery store lines, and the many at church -- look at me, I am a parent doing the impossible: living without her child. I remember those who helped us as we put one foot in front of the other on the rocky path. My husband, three children, and I couldn’t walk it alone. Friends, with embraces as strong and wide as eagle wings, circled us, cried with us. They brought meals, sent cards, provided listening ears, and took care of our young children. Then there were those uncomfortable with our grief. During the first weeks they joined our tears, but as the months dragged on, their expressions and subtle hints were shouting, “Get back to normal. Look at the joyous side of life. Heal your broken heart!" For some reason, as you may know, people put a timeline on grief. I think the general consensus is that you’re only allowed two to three weeks of sorrow. When you are new to grief, even simple tasks can be laborious. Your energy and patience levels are low. But hear a comment or two that is completely out of line for anyone to say, and suddenly, you are propelled by anger. How can I forget the older lady in our church that called me every day for two weeks? She’d start off by asking how I was doing. My guts felt like they were stripped out of my body and my heart, mangled. I’d say, "It’s hard." One afternoon this woman told me with all the sincerity she could muster, "God needed another flower in his garden in heaven and took Daniel." I nearly dropped the phone. This was supposed to provide comfort? I eventually did hang up, but politely. My frustration flared. I got a lot of laundry done that afternoon -- throwing clothes into the washing machine, banging the lid shut, flinging socks and shirts into the dryer. I am bolder now. When people tell me certain lines, aimed to help me and they don’t work, I let them know. My new mantra is, "Cry with me. Don’t pretend you understand why my child died. Don’t try to rationalize why my son was diagnosed with cancer at the age of three and died at four." Those who have helped are the ones who continue to remember his birthday and think of how hard it is to live the holidays without him. I appreciate the friends who join me at the cemetery, named by my children “Daniel’s Place”, and lift a helium balloon into the sky with me. Watch it soar. I believe my son is vibrant and alive in Heaven now. I hope the balloon reaches him. Don’t tell me it pops when it gets out of sight. Let me be like a child and not know the laws of the stratosphere. Let me wish he knows how much I love and miss him. Let me believe he is alive and touching the face of God. The sun does shine again in my world. Although the hole in my mother’s heart is always present, I’m grateful for the times I can tell Daniel’s story. Remembering him, writing about him, even sharing his jokes with those I meet, brings healing. I place flowers at his grave. But Daniel is not another flower.

As the days go by

Some days just crawl by and some went so fast I am sure I missed them entirely. Why is that I wonder? I want to have my eye on my homeland, Heaven.

I think that if I expect too much predictability or routine I might become more complacent in the everyday. I forget daily who I am in Christ, and all that my new life means. I believe that life is to have joy and hope today, as well as in the future. I am so glad that it is not just in the here and now... that my joy will be full and complete and eternal with God in Heaven.

Today I feel desperate to be at peace.... Joy and hope may come later..... I need peace, not in the situation but in my heart, the kind of peace that comes from the HS. This is a day for me that seems to crawl by as I cling to the things that the Liar cannot get to.

We have a mouse somewhere in this house, so I can relate to sister love about the fear and laughter that it brings. I had my hubby awake and out of bed each and every time it moved all through the night. What did I think, that he was going to catch it!? It is stuck in the ducts for the furnace! You can hear all night.... tap click click click until he reaches a vent cover then it tries to claw its way out. Now it is Sept. and cold but I don't want to have a cooked mouse in the vents. We have one vent with the cover off in the kitchen that happens to have a trap next to it, I am not taking the blame for what could happen. The only good mouse aloud in this house has to be a stuffed toy. All was going along well until the hunter in training, Braydon, pipes up

"You kill it, you eat it!"

Back in Blogville

Coming back to bloggville has been a little intimidating, as the more blogs that I read the less I feel I have to say. So many great encouraging words out there.... the possibilities are endless.

I am off the Big City.
I am not prone to anxiety but I have it.....Please pray for me. Travelling on the day that brought heart ache to the world is hard also. I hold dear the memories that cause my eyes to tear for all those sons and daughters that were killed this day 5 years ago.
Pray for the unforgiveness that I am feeling in my heart, that it is brought to the surface.....I do not want to deal with it but yet I have to obey. I want to grow in the Lord. I want a deeper relationship with my Jesus...... I think too often I put up a really good front and know one know that inside I am desperate for the water of life! I know that I thirst for more of you Lord!

Saved by Grace
Sarah

YOU KNOW YOU'RE REALLY A MOM WHEN...

This is the Early Tuesday Edition "you know you're really a mom when..."
that started over at Everyday Mommy and I am just joining in ( as I won't be back on the blogline until Friday).

You know you're really a mom when..... a trip out of town alone is frightening!
You know you're really a mom when.... night time is your favorite time because the wee ones are all sleeping.
You know you're really a mom when.... the only way to describe the lady you met in town was by her children.
You know you're really a mom when.... you miss the smell of a baby.
You know you're really a mom when.... word that your mother said to you are coming out of your mouth when you promised that you would never would!
You know you're really a mom when.... the love that you feel for those little angels is indescribable.
You know you're really a mom when.... you appreciate other mothers as well as your own.
You know you're really a mom when.... the kid having a fit in the grocery store doesn't bother you at all.
You know you're really a mom when.... You know that the purpose that God has given you is wrapped a sticky smile that asks if God is a Veggie?
All the days that happened before my kids does not compare to the joy and the love that they have brought to my life.

Bright Lights, Big City

This journey of mine is a little frightening....
One year ago I took a trip to the city alone. I believed that I had left Jesus at home, I believed that I travelled alone. It was an awful weekend away. In my short adult years I was brought to a place where I did not know who I was.....as a woman, as a person, as a child of God. All that I knew of myself was what was wrapped so tightly in the love of a good man and three angelic faces... Sarah had been broken down over the years, covered with dirt and worldly masks..... and so I swore that I would not travel hubby-free again. Yet, this trip is unavoidable and fast approaching. I can feel my anxiety rising. Today I know my God is coming along, and that He does not abandon me, ever. Still the fears of the evil one creep in....

Scripture, prayer, & word of encouragement are greatly appreciated.
I fly on the evening of the 11th to the city and home on the evening of 14th.
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Just an end note to all those Godly sisters I have out in blogville; Thank you for your daily words of love and encouragement, life hurdles and brain simulators. Your voices echo!