The Last Time

 Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. (Psalm 30:5b)

Today I bought the last Christmas card I’m ever going to give my mom. It was a bittersweet moment, standing in the greeting card isle trying to find a card that expresses how much that woman means to me in a not-too-wordy message that she will be able to read and at the same time, trying not to let it get me down. Everything I do for my mother these days have a melancholy shadow surrounding it. After surviving the sudden death of my son, I thought that knowing beforehand and having some time to get used to the idea would make it easier but I was mistaken. Losing someone you love hurts whether its quickly all at once or piece by piece over time. What makes it all the harder is that all of my life, Mom was always the person I went to when life got hard. I’m losing my mother and my support all at the same time.

What keeps the despair at bay is the knowledge that God is with me through it all, even if I don’t feel him. Even if, in my pain, I’m too numb or apathetic to seek his presence. It would be easy to feel completely lost and defeated and wallow in the emptiness of my grief and maybe sometimes I do. But when I look back on the broken, damaged person I was and how God has changed and healed my life and my heart, I have confidence that one day I will look back on this moment and be able to see clearly where God was and how he held the pieces of my heart together in his loving hands. He’s proven to me repeatedly over the last quarter century that he is trustworthy and he will not abandon me so I’m just going to lean into the God who has proven his faithfulness to me and hope he holds me together through this dark night.