When my son died, my world shattered. For years, I tried in vain to get back to “normal”. I wanted so desperately to be the woman I used to be before tragedy tore me apart.
But it turns out, that woman died the same day her son did. She no longer exists. God, who alone has the power to resurrect, raised up a new woman from the ashes of that death. I am so grateful that God did not leave me as I was when I was broken.
He healed me.
It has taken me a long time, but I can finally say with honesty that I am also grateful He did not leave me as I was before my brokenness.
He made me stronger.
Ten years ago today I held my son’s lifeless body in the palm of my hand sobbing with the raw intensity of fresh grief. He had been born into the arms of Jesus bypassing my own arms altogether. My emptiness and sorrow resulting from that loss plunged me into a dark abyss of despair and fear cloaked by a busy life and a practiced smile.
Have you ever sensed God calling you out of your comfy boat to walk the waves beyond? Did you do it? Did you try and then sink like Peter? Or is fear holding you back from even stepping out? What’s keeping you from walking on water? Maybe you still haven’t figured out how to get your boat out of the harbor. I have days like that. I’m right there with you!
This is part 3 of yesterday’s post. I’m going to skip a recap and jump right in to finishing my story. If you haven’t already, go back and read part 1 here and part 2 here.
I tried to swallow the fear that surged within me, but I couldn’t keep it down. I desperately wanted to believe it was nothing, but this hadn’t happened to me before and I was already well into the second trimester.
I’m not sure which is more nerve-wracking: keeping young children from playing in the street, teaching your older child how to drive, or letting her drive alone. My teen daughter had just left the house and had only been gone 10 minutes when my phone rang. Not good.
She opened with, “It’s not an emergency and no one is dead.” I have trained her well. Relief and joy, mixed with a hint of pride.
“But it is urgent and I do need your help.” Bummer. I just got back home.
“I think I ran out of gas and I’m stuck in the turn lane in front of the gas station.” Disappointment turned to anxiety as I was already imagining her being rear-ended and seriously injured.