A dear friend recently said that enormous loss tears a person into two. It divides the heart so that no emotion will ever again be whole and unmixed.
As I sat on our deck this afternoon, enjoying the laughter coming from my two little boys playing together, these words rang in my ears. You see, this was the first time I watched their roles completely flip, the older following as the younger led. My boys had been playing a game in their play house, darting in and out of the front door and slamming the shutters on the windows open and closed as they played a wordless game of peek-a-boo. I was lost in my thoughts, listening to them giggle together, when suddenly I realized Liam was climbing the steps of the deck, holding a broken-off shutter, and saying "Mommy, help! Window! Fix it!" Wesley followed close behind, watching his younger brother closely with his head cocked to one side. Looking at the two of them, I was so proud of my younger son for taking initiative, coming to me for help, and verbally asking me to do something rather than just screaming. Since he watches his older brother so closely, seeking to imitate every move of the brother he so very much adores, we are working hard to remind him to talk to us when he needs help rather than just yelling. And today, he did. He ran across the entire yard to ask me to help him fix his problem. He even brought the shutter just in case it wasn't clear.
But even as my heart filled with joy, delighting in how my younger son was not only taking the lead in coming to me for help but also setting a beautiful example for his big brother, I also felt that deep, throbbing pain creeping back up to the surface as I looked past my precious baby and into his big brother's eyes. The confused but yet trusting look in my big boy's eyes pierced my soul as my heart broke for him once again. It felt as if I was watching a pivotal moment, where big brother was relinquishing his role to little brother, realizing the tide had shifted and it was time.
As I watch my boys grow up together, I am sure that this divided heart will become a constant fixture within me. Joy will often be pierced with sorrow. There is just no way around it. It was never supposed to be this way. This was never supposed to happen.
Jesus, give me the strength to walk this road. Some days it feels as though my heart will explode with pain and grief before I ever reach the end. Do not let me lose heart. Help me to keep my eyes on you, trusting that you will uphold me. My broken and divided heart is in your hands.
"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:14-16
3 comments:
I always appreciate your honesty Elisabeth. I can relate to your pain even though our circumstances are different. I watch my youngest, Benjamin run, jump, climb, navigate tricky playground equipment. He doesn't think twice about wood chips, tall grass, or bumpy terrain. Then there is my Caleb who relies on his wheels to take him where his legs can't. There are just some things he can't do and won't ever be able to do. Some days I'm okay with that, but then other days not so much. Your faith inspires me, encourages me...even though I've never met you.
I love your posts. I have been praying for you and thinking of you often. If you ever need to chat just let me know.
This makes me wonder if I had another if I would have a harder time with Calvin's disability. It seems fitting he is the baby since he is the youngest. But maybe the younger one enhances that, making things more of a struggle? You are so blessed to be growing through your experiences :)
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