My brain feels fried. I feel it longing to go numb and I fear numb more than I fear pain. I feel like I am on overdrive, stuck in four wheel mode, working it too hard, and it is getting tougher to decipher things clearly lately. I force myself to write in the hopes of dislodging it and sorting a few things out. To lay the words on paper, or in cyberspace, to get them out of my head. To leave them here to come back to if ever need be, even for no other reason than a way to remind myself of the fingerprints of God throughout this journey of Trent's death. To free my brain and lay my burdens down at the foot of the cross. The weight lessens with every word that is released.
I miss the first days after Trent died. I miss the absolute reassurance of God's promises. The freshness of them and the great hope in them. Somewhere along the line in the past near three months the cares of this world have snuck in. My flesh and my desires have overruled. My longings have become greater than the word of God. My heart has deceived me yet again. "Set me free from my prison, Lord, that I may praise your name" I cry as the psalmist cries. Let the praise be again from my lips, from my heart, from my whole being.
But I replace praise with wishing. Wishing Trent would just come down those steps again this morning. Wishing it really was his voice that I heard while I was digging in the freezer in the garage. Wishing he could see the barn work that we dreamed about. Wishing I could care that the garden is almost planted. Wishing that he could be the one trapping that pesky gopher in the yard instead of waiting for Rob to do it. Wishing I could feel him in my arms again. Wishing I would hold my other children tighter rather than being a zombie mother. Wishing I wouldn't fight with my husband when I really just want to cry with him and have him hold me while I do. Wishing I could be brave enough to just let the tears flow when they need to flow. Wishing I would draw near to God again and really trust His sovereignty and be content to patiently wait.
Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord; O Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy. I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I put my hope. My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning. O Terri, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. God did redeem Trent from all of his sins and has only done what pleases Him and answered all my prayers for my son's salvation in doing it.
(My rendition of Psalm 130 this morning.)