Thoughts...

"And the Holy Spirit helps us in our distress.  For we don't even know what we should pray for, nor how we should pray.  But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.  And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God's own will."  - Romans 8: 26-27

As I sit down to write this entry, I hear the sweet sounds of my boys singing as they play.  One voice is missing, and that is still so hard to wrap my mind around.  As I continue to struggle with my grief and trying to live on in spite of my pain, I am reminded constantly that I am not the only person in the world who is grieving or in great distress.  In fact, I am just one of millions who are at this very moment trying to get through a horrible event.   Someone else has lost a child, or a spouse, or their job, or their dreams.  It is comforting to know that as Christians, we do not have to walk this walk alone.  It is comforting to know that I still have two precious children to live for, along with an amazing husband, unconditionally supportive parents and friends that do not walk away when the going gets tough.  I know all of this in my broken  heart and soul, but I am still in an unbelievable amount of pain.  How do people do this alone??  How do people get through the hard times without God?  I have always felt blessed about my life and the people in it.  I always knew I would lose one of those people one day.  I never dreamed it would be my child.  "That is my worst nightmare:" about a hundred people have said that to me in the past 2 months.  Well guess what?  It was my worst nightmare, too.  And it came true.  "I wouldn't be able to get out of bed:" that's what others say.  Well, you know what?  That's what I would have said 2 months ago if you told me I would lose one of my children.  But I have to get out of bed.  I have 2 other children and a husband to live for.  I have an entire blessed life to continue.  I am Webb's mother and always will be, but I am Bo and Whit's mother, too.  They need me.  And they need all of me, not a shell of what I used to be.  I have to pray for the strength to live on, to be a good mother and person even though my world shattered before my eyes.  I have to believe that's what Webb would have wanted for his parents, for his brothers.  So as I take the small steps to starting a new life and reconciling it with my old life, I oftentimes cannot muster up enough strength to pray.  How lucky that I have Jesus to say my prayers for me.  How lucky am I that He is whispering my deepest needs in God's ear, even those needs that I cannot formulate.  Tomorrow marks the second month since the day we found out Webb had a brain tumor.  Time has moved by so very slow in that amount of time.  Bo and Whit have outgrown almost all the clothes they were wearing in December.  The seasons are changing; it is staying light outside later, soon it will be warm again.   Time marches on, and so must we.  How very, very difficult that is to do.