If you had told me years ago what my life would hold, I’m not sure I could have grasped the fullness and depth of both the Joy and the Sorrow that was to come.
If you had told me at 15 that I would have three children by age 21, I might have doubted you.
If you had told me on my 30th birthday that I would have also been celebrating my 15th wedding anniversary with my guy, I would have been grateful but amazed that our messy story held so much redemption.
If you had shared that by the age of 35 I would be the mama to 6 children—or by 42 that I would have given birth 9 times, you would have surprised this ‘only’ child.
If I would have known that I would have already cared for 3 elderly grandparents in our home and stood by two as they took their final breaths, I would have doubted you.
If you had told me then that some day I would be asked to hand one of my precious children back to Jesus early, my heart would have been terror stricken.
And if you had told me that many of my closest friends would be mothers that had lost children—that I would be drawn to them by their pain and resilience in the face of devastation, I might have nervously laughed.
“No” I would answer, “that would be way too awkward. I would never know what to say. I’m not equipped for their pain. I’m not the person that can speak into their lives”.
Much like Moses in the Old Testament who told the Lord that he was not a good fit for the task the Lord gave him, I too would struggle to believe that I was able.
“But Moses pleaded with the LORD, ‘O Lord, I’m not very good with words. I never have been, and I’m not now, even though you have spoken to me. I get tongue-tied, and my words get tangled’.” Exodus 4:10
Little did I know back then that I would indeed hold many friends who grieve the loss of their child. Truth be told, I still don’t know what to say. I still make mistakes and am awkward. I still bumble through reaching out to let people know I care. I am still self-conscious that I might ‘get it wrong’ and cause more pain.
What I have found over the last few years of this grief walk is each of us will use our pain differently and at different times. Some will hold it close, cling to it as the last connection to their loved one. Others will throw themselves headlong into fighting whatever took their heart and shattered it. Some will walk along side the hurting and just hurt with them. Some have a story to tell, but others just silently share their heart to God. There is no right way to grieve. As unique as we all are, we will all do this differently. Even within our family, David and I do this walk very differently. I am more vocal, he is quieter. I write to get the thoughts out of my head, he silently mulls over them. We grieve the same loss but in very different ways—that’s okay!
I have also found that I have so much to learn from these other families. I have watched grieving parents bring joy to other dying children through granting their last wishes for memories. I have seen grieving families work to bring a smile to a child that is battling and then ease the financial burden after the pass. I have seen advocacy and awareness shared by families who are passionate about curing children and preventing more young lives being lost. I have been ministered to by grieving parents who facilitate support groups and retreats. I have been blown away that in the midst of their own grief that a friend would bring my children a simple treat to produce a smile on their faces. Yes grieving parents come in all varieties, but we share a common factor of needing to find a way to work with our pain.
I often wonder how my pain will invest in others. Will it be through my writing that allows another parent to know they are not alone? Will it be through an eventual support group? Will I simply walk beside the hurting and speak words of life into them as they are faint?
Like Moses who was unsure but eventually went on to do the task God gave, I too hope I have the courage to walk into the fire and rescue the hurting.
Today I am going to be sharing some to these families and the work they do towards helping others. As you look at their lives and hear their stories, please PRAY for them. Even though they are diligently serving others, their hearts are still broken. Their pain is being used for the purpose of good, but it still hurts every single day. If you feel led to financially help them minister, tell them Millie’s Mama sent you.
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☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★
I still believe in Millie’s Miracle
☆｡･:*:･ﾟ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
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