Years ago, when I had experienced the loss of our babies, I just wanted my mom at my bedside. Rubbing my foot through the blanket as mom always did...I just needed her presence. I had no idea how I would manage to hold my head up again after laying our sweet babies to rest. How do you do something that is out of the normal?
As I sat in front of the laptop this afternoon, I was chatting with a friend as she was desperate to mend a broken relationship. Having exhausted all means, she questioned what God would want her to do? Should she be like Noah and close the door to the Arc, having given the last chance? Should she reach out her arms, and her heart, even if it meant she was met with a stiff arm?
My mind went to a song that mom gave to me. A simple little cd filled with music, but I could see the twinkle in my mom's eye as she told me the specific track to play. Her timing was impeccable, because she knew I was in the middle of my own storm at the time. I, too, was faced with rejection from others.
As I first played the song, I wept. Validation overwhelmed me, as did God's presence to assure me that my problem was not my own. My problem was his.
A few years after mom giving me this song, I was sitting on the floor of the closet, during one of my most ugliest of cries. I remembered this song. Playing it again, I once again was reminded that my problem, my grief, was not mine. All I had to do was turn it over to God. He wanted it...all I had to do was give it to him.
So, as I listened to it, I gave him my grief. I gave him my anger, my confusion, my hurt. I gave him the burdens that I could no longer carry...and he gladly took it from me.
As much as I wanted mom there to help me, in one sense, she actually was there. Little did she know that years after she placed that cd in my hand, would I continue to find comfort as I tried to conquer grief. Thank you, mom!
I have attached the song....when you have done all you can, just stand!