I cry nearly every time I do the dishes. My kids still ask why I'm sad, then rush to remind one another of the answer. Precious little Lucia wandered through the house last night moaning, "Where's Omi? Where's Omi?" I told her Omi wouldn't come back and she cried, in her darling little two-year-old way, declaring "I miss her!"
I feel hollow and out of sorts, as if in a fog that must make a suitable effort to keep out some sunshine-- a miserable occupation that strives to be present in the daily joys of family life, but with the (untrue) weighty guilt that to experience delight is a betrayal.
My mom and I never had an enviable relationship, but I am deeply struck to realize she leaves a void which can't be reconciled this side of heaven.
Yesterday while on the lake we were shocked as we watched a house burn up in flames. Black smoke rose in billows like the rolling spray off a jet ski. I was transfixed, considering the safety of the family, standing away from the blaze, in great sorrow, but safely together. Massimo on my lap prayed to God for their safety and that of the firefighters, and thanked Him for how quickly the black smoke turned grey, then white with the onslaught of the powerful hose. It was cathartic to watch as sorrows seem fitting right now. I am at ease in tears.
I ache, and it is right to feel this way. Even a walk into Aldi nearly brought me to a blubbering mess on the floor. There are reminders of my mom, and hints of our relationship everywhere. Marzipan on the shelf (I bought two in her honor!), the image of Neuschwanstein Castle on packaging, a dirty rag by the kitchen sink, even a filmy glass door to the shower. Everything still hurts, yet I am grateful for it. It means there is a deep love there which I've so often questioned in my life. I miss my Mama, and constantly find myself begging my Lord to use this sorrow for good.
I continually remind myself that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18); that he Himself is aquainted with grief (Isaiah 53) and comforts those who suffer. And more so, that mourning is not a thing to be flippantly discarded, but viewed as a trial and grace for one's benefit as stated in Ecclesiastes:
2It is better to go to a house of mourning
Than to go to a house of feasting,
Because that is the end of every man,
And the living takes it to heart.
3Sorrow is better than laughter,
For when a face is sad a heart may be happy.
This has all caused me to draw close to God and consider His ways and His grace with all people. It renews my fervency to pray for my family and friends.
2 Peter 3:8-10King James Version (KJV)
8 But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.
9 The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
10 But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.
My mom was gone so quickly. Shortly before she died, she send me a lengthy text message with her plans for the day. We do not have any time promised to us or any inherent right to the blessing of our time on Earth, but God has been so gracious to give us access to Him, and even greater, to be long-suffering with us despite our hatred towards Him and derision to His kindnesses. It is right to sorrow for her temporal loss, but I have hope that my Mom may have been His child, and I hope she is reveling in the glory of Christ's presence and His blessed kingdom.
1 Man of sorrows what a name
for the Son of God, who came
ruined sinners to reclaim:
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
2 Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
in my place condemned he stood,
sealed my pardon with his blood:
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
3 Guilty, helpless, lost were we;
blameless Lamb of God was he,
sacrificed to set us free:
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
4 He was lifted up to die;
"It is finished" was his cry;
now in heaven exalted high:
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
5 When he comes, our glorious King,
all his ransomed home to bring,
then anew this song we'll sing:
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
