I sit here this morning reading your comments, friends, and see first hand all over again how good God is to our family. Comments like Sonja's about how God has layed Cole on her heart lately and how she has faithfully prayed for him brought tears to my eyes. Friends like Cathy who responded with a covering of prayer and a sweet email to check on me because God layed me on her heart the day that just "happened" to be when I opened the mailbox to discover the autopsy report. As I hid in the garage and bawled over reading it the thought of her prayers being lifted up on my behalf, and the God who ordained them, sustained me. Friends and sisters and moms who just email or call or stop by~ don't underestimate God's leading. Thank you for being faithful to respond. This is tough, and tougher yet at various times or days for various odd reasons. Somewhere there is a battle going on beyond what we see here. Nights have been hard lately. The days are becoming full and busy once again, life is going forth out of necessity, there is noise and chaos. But nights are quiet. The mind is tired. The spirit starts to doubt and forget. The longing is deep, and the dark is dark. I thank God for always waking Rob up to comfort me in the deepest parts of it.
I don't know which is worse~ the crying days or the happy days. Some days I can get through the whole day and talk about Trent, look at his pictures and his belongings that are still scattered through out the house, and smile knowing where He is. Other days I can't get through the first cup of coffee without several kleenexes. I still don't know how to answer the "How are you?" question. How do you sum up what God has done the past couple of months in a single reply? "Fabulous, my son is in Heaven, do you want to know how to get there too? But I can't stop crying, just go read the blog, I am a better writer than talker these days". Sometimes I can't see the happily ever after myself, how do I encourage others to?
I love my children. God has used them in an unbelievable way to minister and teach me in this. Aren't I the one who is supposed to be leading them through this? And how do you show children how to grieve? I was pretty much just thrown in and am getting a crash course myself. I don't know what else to do but keep pointing them to God's sovereignty, the promises of scripture, hugging them and holding them (mostly when it's me crying), and just keep living. Each of them are individuals walking their own walk through this. Everyone of them had a different relationship with Trent that I will never know the depth of. They are all grieving differently, separately, and together with Rob and I and their friends.
Their souls are my first concern and I long for their own salvation. Many a day and night I come knocking at God's door and bugging Him about it again. "Remember the other kids here God". I have refused to make Trent's death their death. I do not want their childhood to be about the day their brother died. They deserve to live and be who God made them, as special as their brother was, and loved, adored and cherished as much as we are loving, adoring, cherishing and missing him. I pray and anticipate the big plans that God has prepared in advance for each of them. The high calling God has brought in their life has only made them cling to Him more and seek to understand Him more. Somehow we are just trying our hardest to keep pointing God out to them through this. What a drab post for a drab, cold, rainy April day. But it feels good to get it all out in writing, to somehow physically remove it from my mind and lay it at my Saviors cross that He may do with it what He wants. He said His yoke is easy, His burden is light. I can only do one thing at a time, and if that means right now I quit trying to carry this by myself I gladly dump the load and will just sit at my Saviors feet and worship Him again. Jesus is coming soon and His reward is with Him. Wait patiently oh me of little faith.