"Blessed are those who mourn, they shall be comforted." Matthew 5:4
As I sit in the chapel Adoring our Lord, crying, Jesus holds me, He reassures me of my blessings and the gifts He's given me. He reminds me there is a time for everything and that He is holding my friend also.
There is an appointed time for everything,
and a time for every affair under the heavens.
A time to give birth, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to tear down, and a time to build.
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;
a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away.
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to be silent, and a time to speak.
A time to love, and a time to hate;
a time of war, and a time of peace.
I sit here crying non-stop. I feel what we all feel, deep sorrow for a grieving mother. My heart aches for her, my stomach hurts. I cannot focus my thoughts. I ache for the children as they try to make sense of it all. I remember losing my baby brother at the age of 13 and begging God to take me instead, to make it right. I begged God for at least the next 7 years. I wondered why God took him instead of me for a long time. I pray her children do not feel like this. I ache for the father that protects and loves his family in all things, I pray for him. I pray for her relationship with her husband, that this brings them closer as they mourn together.
Like you, I am feeling relieved that it didn't happen to me. And I'm feeling guilty for feeling like that. That I'm so thankful for my own 5 year old boy. I am thankful for the blessings I still have in my children, I hug them a little tighter today, I watch them a little closer and quieter. I listen to them a little better and make sure they know I love them. I want to breathe them in and savor every moment.
I wonder if my child, my happiness, will remind her of what she's lost. It will. Everything will.
And my heart aches again. I wonder if she can sleep. I wonder if her love of fall will become only sadness and dread each year now. I wonder if she will ever feel "normal" again. I wonder if she can get up today. Can she live again? Can she go on? She has no choice. She has to. She knows He lives and so her son lives also. My mind wanders to her having to do laundry and folding his clothes, about her passing his clothes down to the next child. I think of how every day from this day forward she will be missing him until that day she meets him again in the Arms of our Heavenly Father.
When a mother loses her child, the unimaginable becomes a reality and we may not truly understand unless we've also lost a child, but are connected by our sorrow and by our faith in Heaven.
For now, all I can give her is my prayers, my tears, my silence for lack of any comforting words. And the aching sorrow deep in my heart.
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Sweet St Eddie, Pray for us!