Showing posts with label trials joy goodness mom grief loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trials joy goodness mom grief loss. Show all posts

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Tusting in God's Goodness -- This is harder than I thought

"Can't we just skip this week?" I've asked this question in my mind multiple times now. Apparently the answer is "no."
I couldn't skip yesterday, the one year anniversary of Mom's surgery. I couldn't skip the feelings that came with that. The memories of the relief in "knowing" she was going to be OK, in thinking that the worst was over. 
I can't skip today. I can't avoid the heartache in knowing that it's been an entire year since I've seen my mom alive. I can't help but remember the excitement I felt on this day last year as my sister and I prepared for Mom's homecoming by cleaning the house and planting flowers in the front yard. I can't stop the tears as I think about my last encounter with my mom. The way it felt when she held me as I cried at the thought of leaving her alone in the ICU for one more night. The gift of her last words to me - "I'm so proud of you."
And I won't be able to skip tomorrow, either. The horrific pain I felt as I realized she was actually gone. The way I felt she'd been ripped from our lives. The way I wanted to scream for her to come back. The way David hugged me after the nurse gave us the news as I told him that I didn't know what to do. The I sometimes still feel as though I don't know what to do. 
I just can't escape any of it. I have to survive these days. I have to endure these feelings. And I know I will; I've done it before. God always seems to carry me through them. 
There have been many days in the last year that I didn't recognize that's what he was doing. Weeks when I didn't feel his presence. Months that I didn't believe that we was still kind and good. But thankfully, God's kindness and goodness don't depend on my belief in them. Thankfully, he is a patient God. He knows my frame - he remembers that I am dust (Ps. 103). And though I may feel alone in my pain these next few days, though I may forget his kindess and his goodness (and I pray I don't!), he will carry me through nonetheless. 
I can't skip these days, as much as I think I'd like to. But I can use them as a time to look for God's presence. To praise him for bringing me this far; for not giving up on me this last year. And to look ahead with grateful anticipation toward days that I would never want to skip. To a time that I will be reunited with my family in the presence of our God, with no memories of the days I wanted to skip.