One Day At A Time

I cannot believe that it has been almost 2 months since we lost our son Isaac James. It is still amazing to me the grief that we as a family and as individuals are still going through. However, we are having more good days than bad.

Tonight my heart ached as Andrew, our 10 year old was hurting. It had been an hour since I put him to bed and I was checking my email in the living room when I heard someone up. This usually means trouble for them. As I went into his room to get after him, he was sitting up on his bed, cross legged with his head buried in his hands crying. His t-shirt was soaked with tears & he was sniffling as he said he was thinking of Isaac. Ah... what to say... what to say. I just held him and told him to let Jesus hug him too and that it is okay to be sad, that my heart still hurts too. Andrew has really been reading his Bible a lot and has enjoyed his study Bible, he loves the extra info/facts. He started reading Revelation, I know... weird book for me even, but he is loving it. He has been re-reading the first 8 chapters over and over, underlining what speaks to him. He had read me a few verses at bedtime, they were mainly saying worthy is the Lamb that was slain, he who has an ear to hear, let him hear what the Spirit says and then he quoted Revelation 7:17 "For the Lamb on the throne will be their Shepherd. He will lead them to springs of life-giving water. And God will wipe every tear from their eyes." As he said this he said this reminded him of Isaac. I believe that God is speaking in a still small voice to my Andrew-of course as his Momma I wish it would happen at more convenient times... not really!! I will take and cherish each moment with my family.

Time flies so quickly and I am finding that we are getting caught up in activity and back to "normal", whatever this means but sometimes this only masks pain. I think we need to allow "pit stops" for when we need them. I can tell you that you can't plan when you will have a moment or a day full of sorrow.

Here comes a dose of honesty or confession from me. Sundays are the worst day for me since we lost Isaac. I don't understand why exactly, what is it that makes me want to stay home every week? I know that people there love me and that it is okay to have a meltdown there, so why can't I? This past Sunday was the first Sunday I really cried since we've been back, not that tears mean anything, but why am I putting on a front that all is fine and not allowing myself to be real? I am NOT strong, I am WEAK!