Walking through the Valley....

I have always believed in God.  I remember being a small child, just as analytical as I am today, and never questioning that there was a God or Christ.  In fact, I would become very confused when I found out about other religions because nothing else made sense.  Today, I wonder why I question literally everything and analyze things to no end, yet I have never questioned something as major as my faith.  Even in the dark days that have made up my weeks since my precious Webb died, I have been ANGRY with God, but I have not questioned that there is a heaven and that my baby is with Jesus Christ.  Finally, after much thought, and talking with a dear friend who has also untimely lost a loved one, I came to a conclusion: I don't want to believe in God and Jesus and Heaven....I have to.  I have to believe that angels came and took Webb to a better place, a place of no pain and no sorrow.  I have to believe that God has him right this minute, because if I can't have him, there is no one else I would trust to have him.  And I have to believe that we will see him again, because if I don't believe in that, I have very little reason to keep going.  

Zac and I were talking today and we realized we have (if we're lucky), about 50 more years to live.  I cannot imagine 50 more days without Webb, let alone 50 more years.  I suspect the next 50 years will bring some great days, but there will always be a huge hole in our hearts.  It frustrates me that we had to lose one of the most important things to us so young.  It panics me to think of losing another child.  While we have always talked about having 4 or 5 children, I cannot imagine taking our chances after knowing what it is like to lose something you love more than yourself.  It is unimaginable to think we can actually lose one of these little gifts from God that we hold closer to our hearts than anything else....and yet we have.  Here we sit, grieving and in total agony because our baby is not with us.

I remember sitting in church, probably at the age of about 10, and the preacher was talking about the 23rd Psalm.  Something he said stuck for some reason, and it has resonated these past few days.  He explained that while we must walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God never said we should dwell in it.  I oftentimes think God had me in all these places and situations like that day in church 20 years ago just to prepare me for this horrible time, because those words from that preacher spoken 20 years ago bring me comfort today.  So while I am walking through the valley, I want to thank all of those who are walking (literally and figuratively) right along with me.  God also knew what he was doing when he gave me to my parents, to Zac and to Zac's family, and to all of my priceless, wonderful friends.  You didn't know you'd being walking this walk with me, but thanks for jumping on the path.  And thanks in advance for not letting me dwell in valley of the shadow of Webb's death.  He would want more out of his mommy, and Bo and Whit deserve the best I can be.