Friday, February 22, 2013

This morning, I read the following words from my copy of Jesus Calling (by Sarah Young), a little book my mother gave me a couple of years ago:

You need Me every moment.  Your awareness of your constant need for Me is your greatest strength.  You neediness, properly handled, is a link to My Presence... Your inadequacy presents you with a continual choice - deep dependence on Me, or despair.  The emptiness you feel within will be filed either with problems or with My Presence.

How fitting on this day, February 22, 2013, the day that marks ten months without my mother.

I was telling my father last night... just last night... that there's this emptiness within me, within us.  She's gone, and there's a hole.  A void.  A gaping crevice, deep and wide.

The past week, maybe the past two or three, have been some of the most emotional for me.  Can't say why exactly.  It has caught me off guard.  I am thinking more about her.  Dreaming more about her.  Missing her more than ever.  Perhaps it's that the fact that she is really gone has settled in and become more real than before.  Perhaps it's that we are nearing the year mark and I feel my connection with her is fading, fading, fading as the days go by.  Perhaps this is just the way it will always be, a grief that ebbs and flows but never disappears, as large and vast as the ocean that will never dry up and cannot be contained.  I really don't know.

The trees are budding.  The bold purple of the Wandering Jew my mother gave me so many years ago from her own yard to stick in the ground and let it take root is beginning to pop up from the faded pine straw and collection of dead leaves.  The weeds are popping up in the yard, bright and green.  The days are growing longer.  Spring is beginning.  And it doesn't seem right to me that this cycle is starting over without her here.  Maybe that's why I've been so emotional as of late.  Evidence abounds in the world around me all day long that life goes on without her.  And I am still shocked by it.

I am trying to keep my focus on my Savior.  Trying.  He is holding on to me with a firm grasp.  As awful as all of this has been, watching my mother suffer, watching her fade, losing her, I have at least walked away with a steadfast faith that He is always there, always loving me, always forgiving, always providing what I need in every single moment.  And I am so thankful for Him.

Sweet Jesus, keep my mind focused on You and not heading toward despair.  Thank You for holding on to me and never letting go.

1 comment:

Erika Kaplan said...

I don't have any words for you, just wanted you to know I was reading and praying and loving.