So…..its hard to come down from the “high”or adreneline of a basketball game in the legacy of your son and have hundreds of people pledge to want to live like him.
Then the next day its done, and you’re like, oh. Ok. It’s done. I hope they don’t forget.
That’s just one emotion. Then there’s the fact that your kiddos are hurting too, and you’re hurting and sometimes you just can’t comfort each other because you are hurting in such different ways. It’s so, so, so, hard to just be mom to four other kids after you have lost one.
Brooklyn, Brenna, Bryleigh, if you ever read this do not feel hurt but it is very hard losing your oldest son. I don’t really know how to explain it but since he was my first born, it was through difficult circumstances, I was a single Mom for awhile, it was just different. Because he was older we had more time to have “adult” discussions and really bond as people. He helped me just as much as I helped him.
I feel like I have lost my identity. Being Lucas’ Mom was an identity. I was, and am, so fricken proud of that kid. He gave me something to wake up to, and say, I am mother of an amazing child. I am still a Mom but such a broken one. To kids that are hurting so much and there is no one to fill that role. I need to try. Harder. But there is so much pain, so much pain. I don’t know when it’s going to get better. Right now it is more intense than ever. I love this verse
so I started reading Isaiah 35 and it is so beautiful and healing to my soul.
Joy of the Redeemed
35 The desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom;
it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the Lord,
the splendor of our God.
3 Strengthen the feeble hands,
steady the knees that give way;
4 say to those with fearful hearts,
“Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you.”
I feel like a parched land, like a deserted road. My hands are feeble and my knees unsteady. Right now I can’t see past the here and now, where the “what should have been” isn’t going to be. The only way to describe it is wanting to die. Like the people in chronic pain who want a Dr. Death to come to their mercy. It is so intense. So relentless.
I just have to keep telling myself, Melissa, one more minute. One more hour. You can do this. You have to keep breathing even if every breath comes with tears. God loves you. The highway of Holiness is coming.
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