But Joy comes with the Morning

Grief is so… wretched.  It is so painful. Physically painful. As if you can literally feel your heart breaking. 

The onset was sudden and hit me right in the gut. The tears. The tears that made me ache of dehydration – they drained me of all energy, sense, and ability to function. The sobs that began in my stomach and slowly made their way up toward my lungs, my throat, and finally my lips. I stifled them as much as possible so as to not wake my sleeping babies. But alas, I could not. They rang out in the quiet house and beckoned my husband near. His presence was welcomed but nothing… nothing could halt the grief I felt deep within the innermost part of my soul. Words were the farthest from my mouth. My heart has never, ever, even closely been as pained as it is tonight. With each new wave of tears, my thoughts strayed to the pain and suffering my mother must endure. To express her own grief through the natural release of the body by crying, her suffering deepens, trapping her inside a terrifying position both physically and emotionally. I think in the midst of my own suffering, ‘how does she do it?’, ‘how is she so strong?’, ‘she has endured and persevered through the worst imaginable conditions.’ Oh, my heart. Cannot. Bear it. 

From years of memorizing and studying the Bible, I recall Psalm 30:5 “weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” My soul longs to focus on the rejoicing that is promised in the morning. But right now, it is night. And there is weeping. Lots and lots… and lots of weeping. My mind cannot process the grief it is experiencing and my heart is left in shambles. The weeping continues. The strength and vigor I am unable to exhibit in calming the overflow of emotion instead shows itself greatly in producing more tears and more angst and I find myself at a loss. 

Through a series of blubbering and incoherent sentences, my cries to the Lord make their way back to me as answered prayers and I feel my heart calming. My body slowly begins to regain control over its shaking. My breathing becomes steadier. But the pain, oh that wretched pain, it remains.

I search the depths of my scripture memory and recollect a few more.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” in Psalm 34:18

Psalm 22:24 says, “For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.” 

And yet again in Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

My heart cannot begin to muster up feelings of rejoicing at this very moment. My body cannot bear to stand and fight this battle both spiritual and physical because I am face down, on the floor, at the feet of Jesus upon His throne, in a fetal position, and I cannot, absolutely cannot, be removed. Praise God, PRAISE GOD, that he does not ignore, nay deprive those who are mourning the experiencing they are feeling from grief over watching a most dear and precious loved one suffer. Praise God that he has created our hearts and souls to feel so deeply a love for another human being that in loving them more, our pain also increases with the thought of losing them. 

Praise God, that the pain and sadness and torment my heart is experiencing at this very moment is tucked safely in the deep shelters of His mighty fortress and at the mercy of His strong compassion. He does not shame me for my experiencing these harsh realities of our sinful nature but instead steadies His arms wide open to embrace those who seek His shelter.

Many of you, I know, are grieving, mourning, aching in the flesh. Your hearts are weary from battle and your souls need comforting, not condemning. You need to release this monster of emotion that buries itself deep within and must find a safe place to dwell. Friends, I mourn with you. In the midst of my own mourning. I cry with you, plead to God for you, mourn as only one who has experienced such pain can understand.

It is true, the rejoicing of those who have secured their hope in the one and only Savior of the world, will indeed come in the morning. But for now, it is night. And tears must be shed. Burdens must be released. The weakness in our souls must be recognized for what it is and you and I, we must run with all the energy we have left to the one whom we can find rest in. And when we fall down because we are in fact not able to make it to Him, He will pick us up and take us there. The Lord weeps with us and He stands ready and capable to accept us in our state of despair. Joy, it will come in the morning. But for now, it is night. And in the darkness, we must find shelter.

One of my most recent favorite songs is “Holy Spirt” sung by Francesca Battistelli as well as Kari Jobe.  It’s lyrics proclaim the cry of my heart.

“There’s nothing worth more, that will ever come close
Nothing can compare, You’re our living hope
Your presence Lord

I’ve tasted and seen, of the sweetest of loves
Where my heart becomes free, and my shame is undone
In Your presence Lord

Holy Spirit you are welcome here
Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere
Your Glory God is what our hearts long for
To be overcome by Your Presence Lord

Let us become more aware of Your presence
Let us experience the Glory of Your Goodness

Lord, let it be so in my heart. My soul already finds healing and comfort and hope for the morning’s promise of rejoicing. But for now, I cannot rush the morning’s sun so I will rest in your embrace as your Word guides me to do. For there, nothing can touch me or tempt me in your shelter.

Friends, I pray with you tonight as you allow the Holy Spirit to be present. Be near, oh God. I cry out to you, God, to be our refuge. You hear our plead for help and you answer us.

Joy will be anticipated in the morning.

But peace, precious peace, will be found in the night.

“One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple. For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.” Psalm 27:4-5

Celebrating Momma

This Mother’s Day I am celebrating my beautiful mother… by not spending it with her. 

And it is bittersweet to say the least.

You see I had every intention to spend the day finding creative ways to celebrate my mom despite her living with Lou Gehrig’s Disease. In spite of her living with Lou Gehrig’s Disease. And mainly because she is alive to spend it with. 

But as life would have it, my own two toddlers caught a virus the week leading up to Mother’s Day. Thus, I would not be able to continue with my plans, and instead, I would stay home through the weekend to get them better. Bittersweet to say the least.

Since my mom’s diagnosis with ALS nearly two and a half years ago, we treat every holiday, trip, and visit like it’s our last. We celebrate big, we always say I love you, and we leave a little piece of our heart with the memories. So to say that the taste in my mouth was bitter would be accurate as I texted my mom the news that I would in fact have to postpone our plans.  My heart broke that I would not get to squeeze my momma’s neck, gently of course, as I whispered in her ear, “I love you and you are the best mom God designed for me!” My eyes welled up with tears as I realized I would not get to create a big “to do” for her Mother’s Day she so very much deserved. I just… can’t.  I can’t barely stand that I could be celebrating this day with her, because, well… she’s alive. Yes, bitter describes it.

 Of course she responds with the genuine Mom of the Year reply, “I will miss you but you are where you need to be.”

Immediately, I am whisked away to the present as my youngest crawls into my lap and pitifully lay her head on my shoulder. My heart explodes with love, compassion, and sympathy for her. Oh, thank you Jesus, that you have given me these precious babies to care for. Even as my oldest toddler begins whining, crankiness has overtaken his tired body, I take a deep breath and know that my mom is right. I am where I need to be. 

And it is sweet.

So today, Mom, I am celebrating you, by not spending it with you. I am celebrating it by giving my children the gift of a mother who loves them through their crabbiness, will nurse them through their sickness, and sacrifice my desires for the betterment of their little selves. So, basically, be a reflection of you, dear momma.

Today I celebrate the joy the Lord has given you that I so admire. It will look a little like doing the stanky leg dance combined with the lyrics from a Bubble Guppies episode just to see a grin appear on my tots weary face.

I will celebrate the love you have for me that you have never made me question.  For this demonstration, I will not run away in disgust as my tiny girl leans in for a drooly, snotty, opened mouth kiss. I will hold fast and return her love and snuggles until she pushes away from laughter.

I will celebrate your pure excitement you’ve always shown in the little things by reading the same Sophie the Giraffe book over and over just to see my Jaxson’s eyes light up with glee.

I will celebrate your dedication. It will take shape by waking up every hour in the night my babies cry out in discomfort and I will cradle them until calm.

I will celebrate your incredible outward beauty by taking tons of photos with my tots no matter the lack of makeup and rest, or evidence of snot and drool on my shirt sleeve. Because photos are memory reminders and I have lots of precious memories to be reminded of. The bags under my eyes and drool stains will just have to deal. When the babies don’t mind, momma don’t mind.

I will celebrate your compassion. It will sound like a patient mom in the midst of the tenth tantrum of the afternoon. I may be counting in my head the hours til bedtime, but I will remain calm and compassionate.  Oh, Lawd, help me!

I will celebrate your fear of the Lord. As we stay home from church to keep our germs at bay, the Lord will continued to be praised through song and opening of the Word. I may even dress us in the matching outfits I had planned. After all, Mother’s Day is as good as any to have pictures for blackmail in the future, right? Bless their hearts.

Mom, you WILL be celebrated today. Because of the amazing mother you were and continue to be, you have blessed my children with a mother who understands what it means to be loved, affirmed, prayed over, and valued. Your legacy of motherhood is one to be mirrored. I celebrate you today by being the best mom I know how to be. Thank you for being a beautiful example. From the time I breathed my first breath til the day you breathe your last, I know your love is incomparable on this earth. You rejoice over me as the Lord does, you encourage me through your endurance, and you minister to me in every creative way you can. I celebrate the mom you were when I was a babe and I celebrate the mom you are today. Your abilities may have changed but the way you continue to prove my value as a woman, wife, mother, minister, homemaker, friend, sister, business owner, etc is unparalleled. Your love and life mean so much to this girl. Thank you for every hug, kiss, dance, song, card, message, call, and prayer directed towards me. I couldn’t have imagined anything more wonderful than a mother who has done all that you have. Kristina loves Momma. And I know. I know. Momma loves Kristina.

P.S. I can’t wait until my babies are better and we can come celebrate WITH you. Because we all know it’s not just the thought that counts. Momma deserves some confetti and a gift covered with five packages worth of tissue paper :)