"Time heals all wounds." I'm not too sure about the reality of this famous quote, but I am sure that when I choose to look to the One who gave His life for mine, I am truly comforted. I may still cry, but these are not tears of hopelessness, but more a temporary longing for the sweet little one that no longer greets me each morning, but who I know I will one day see again. Shawn recently said to me, "I don't think think this ache will ever go away. I think we just go from being terribly sad to patiently waiting." And I would say that is where we are now on most days, patiently waiting. We are waiting for what God has promised, eternal life in heaven with Him, because of Jesus' death on the cross. We are also waiting to see our sweet Grant. Shawn used to tell the kids when Grant was sick and he still tells the other two, "In heaven,after you spend a few thousand years at the feet of Jesus praising, let's meet up at the middle gate on the east side (ironically Benjamin's gate-the youngest of Jesse's--later renamed Israel--sons). We are slowly becoming accustomed to our new roles in this altered reality. The kids have probably had the worst of it in that arena. Their trio swiftly became a duo and it has been quite an adjustment. I had probably simplified the difficulty of losing a sibling when this journey first began. Kids are funny because they experience grief so differently. When Grant died, my world came to an abrupt halt. I couldn't move. I remember saying at least once to Shawn that first night that I wasn't sure how I was going to live with this pain. I had to be told to shower, to get dressed, to eat, and pretty much everything else. There were "Par-tays" only because of the love and faithfulness and generosity of many new and old friends, as well as our churches in Pikeville and Lee's Summit (where I had groown up), and especially my parents. We did very little in carrying out the plans. While we could barely function, our kids went swimming, went shopping with grandparents, &amd played with their friends. They had sad moments, but they could seemingly function. But, like I said kids are funny. Their grief is delayed and unique and sometimes more severe because they are ill-equipped to deal with it. I think at the beginning they were searching for "normal." And whatever normal was, they wanted it. They wanted to feel like all was right in their world again. Shawn and I were fortunate enough to have had several people who had lost siblings at Grant's Par-tays. They gave us some very valuable advice--mostly on what not to do. We soon discovered that if we did not actively guide them in their grief that this amputation in their lives might have lasting negative results. We were intimidated, and still are on most days. We've never done this before and we didn't really have anyone around us that had done it either. But, just as our God carefully guided us as Grant was dying, we knew He would teach us how to help them grieve. We by no means claim to be experts. We will not going to be writing any books on the subject. In fact, we routinely flub it up and have to regroup. We frequently ask forgiveness from one another for mistakes we've made as we work through this process. However, when we look to our God and focus on Who He Is (His character) and seek to know Him, our passage through these waters is much more smooth. We don't have to know the answers or the "next step." We just have to KNOW the One who does. This sounds like a trite Christian saying but I assure you it is not. We have made many changes in our family over the past year to facilitate our new circumstances. Sometimes our training has been proactive, sometimes reactive, and then there's the times when it has been all-together wrong. But, God has a way of smoothing the rough patches, and even some of gigantic potholes in our parenting.
Grief by no means is finished and our stuggle is not yet over. We still cry. Just last week we were with some friends at a restaurant that we had last dined at on Grant's birthday a couple years ago. I had forgotten, but my Jackson had not. His demeanor became visibly altered to Shawn and I both. At first I thought it just pre-teen "tude," but upon closer inspection we realized it was more. As we began to peel back the onion layer of emotions, the dam broke loose and the tears began to flow. He sobbed. My heart broke in two. So here we are in the middle of the Riverwalk in this total tourist attraction of a restaurant with animals and storms noisily shouting all around us and we are having "a moment." Shawn and I were trying desperately not to sob right along with him. As I hugged him and he cried, I just cried out to the only One I knew could truly comfort his heart. And in his ear I asked God to be who we knew He was as I listed all His attributes. Our sweet friends handled it great and we moved on to live another moment. These are the moments that greet us from time to time. Sometimes I ask God how I am going to do this and each time the answer is the same. I mean, I don't hear voices each time I ask a question, but in His way He assures me through His Word and in my heart, that
with Him, I cannot fail at any task that comes my way.
"Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." Matthew 19:26
Good thing it truly has nothing to do with me. I must only look to Him!
Here's some moments in our life of late:
Elena with her little Easter chick
Jackson with his very large chick lovingly nicknamed Poullo Gordo (Fat Chicken).
Us having major fun with our dear friends from Kentucky on their visit to our farm.
