I wake up everyday and Trent is still in heaven. The various range of emotions go from elation to uncontrollable tears. I hate crying. I don't know why, I just have never been a crier and I don't know how to do it well. Maybe it is the loss of composure or my need for control. Maybe it is because of the facade of my own strength that I don't want revealed. The tears come easier now which "they" tell me is good. I should be crying "they" say. I make people uncomfortable if I don't cry. But I make myself uncomfortable if I do cry. Quit being such a people pleaser, Terri, and be where God has you today, right now. Trent is in heaven, I would not wish him back. But I see him everywhere. I miss him. I long for him. I ache to feel him in my arms. Somehow I have to learn how to live again. The things of this world have failed to bring any charm or joy. Only the things of God hold any hope. To hear the stories of changed lives already brings great joy. The many, many people we have been privileged to share the gospel with gives this a purpose. To think of Trent, free from the bondages of his sin, standing in awe of his savior, looking face to face with his creator makes me smile. This is not about me. But somehow "me" has to live here doing the good works that God has ordained until my day comes to go home.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Still Here
I wake up everyday and Trent is still in heaven. The various range of emotions go from elation to uncontrollable tears. I hate crying. I don't know why, I just have never been a crier and I don't know how to do it well. Maybe it is the loss of composure or my need for control. Maybe it is because of the facade of my own strength that I don't want revealed. The tears come easier now which "they" tell me is good. I should be crying "they" say. I make people uncomfortable if I don't cry. But I make myself uncomfortable if I do cry. Quit being such a people pleaser, Terri, and be where God has you today, right now. Trent is in heaven, I would not wish him back. But I see him everywhere. I miss him. I long for him. I ache to feel him in my arms. Somehow I have to learn how to live again. The things of this world have failed to bring any charm or joy. Only the things of God hold any hope. To hear the stories of changed lives already brings great joy. The many, many people we have been privileged to share the gospel with gives this a purpose. To think of Trent, free from the bondages of his sin, standing in awe of his savior, looking face to face with his creator makes me smile. This is not about me. But somehow "me" has to live here doing the good works that God has ordained until my day comes to go home.
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8 comments:
Oh friend, I am here! Write to me. Praying!
You are right where you are supposed to be, in HIS arms. He is carrying you. The poem The "Footprints in the Sand" come to mind. Continuing to pray for you.
Terri - You're still you with all your feelings and emotions. Romans tells us that our flesh wars with our spirit. Your spirit rejoices in the fact that Trent is in Heaven and is spared the tribulations of sin and live on earth. But, you are still flesh as well. You are his Mother and have every right to feel. Right now those feelings are part of living. I pray the Lord grant you strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. :D
We're here praying for you and grieving and rejoicing with you.
Dear sweet lady, Teresa and I would gladly be neighbors with you! I'd love it if you would move here though! I love Washington! Teresa might be pursuaded to go though. She's a loyal, sweet woman who thinks of you and prays for you alot, just to let you know. We may not be physical neighbors my dear, but the miles don't mean much with all we have in common, especially Christ. If you EVER are able to visit, know without a doubt that you are more than welcome. Thank you little Moses lady, for sharing your life so freely. YOu are generous with it and the Lord is using you. Eternity and all it holds for us will be worth it, we have to believe that!
I have to tell 'ya that the picture is perfect for this post. I'd love to hear the story behind it.
Thanks sweet sister~ Just sitting out back at the cabin sight thinking about Trent and looking at the little bench he made for the picnic table out there, thinking of songs and verses that God talks about our tears while fighting my own. Finally broke down and cried, and because I can't do anything without taking a picture of it, I snapped a shot. God promises to bottle up every one of our tears so I might as well let them flow. Terri
cry a river sweetheart. You are entitled.
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