Mourning the Dream

This morning I thought about how sometimes mourning the dream is more difficult than mourning an actual person. Because, the truth of the matter is that Warner is healed, whole, and experiencing Jesus in full. But, I'm the one left behind with our little family that has to move forward without his presence.

Don't we all spend a lot of our sorrowful days mourning a dream that failed? My heart hurts because my body failed and Warner went to be with Jesus much earlier than my dreams ever wished. Even just days before he died, I would have told you with full confidence that the Lord was going to allow Warner to be born full-term and we would all be a happy family come the summer.

But, that didn't happen.

Instead, I held him while he died.

How do you move forward when mourning a dream? Life was supposed to be much different than it is today. I wasn't supposed to be concerned with headstones or perfect flowers for an itty bitty grave. I was supposed to be trying to figure out how to bundle up three munchkins for the snow today.

Two little girls and a little boy. Two little princesses for Mommy and one little pirate for Daddy. Filling out our car and house with some baby blue. Teaching him about Jesus. Watching him grow up to be a man that loves his Mama, but not too much ;-) Dancing with him at his wedding one day and looking back on all the days of bed rest that were more than worth it for just this moment.

But, all of those things were just a dream. A dream that isn't happening now. A dream that was shattered by the brokenness of this world. A dream that wasn't torn apart by a greedy God, but instead by the frailty of life and the sin that has ravaged everything.

"All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing" -Ecclesiastes 1:8

But, there was a day when light broke through. When God became man and nothing would ever be the same. 

Broken dreams? A broken heart? Broken hope? Grabbing at any shred of light?

He is come.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." -Matthew 11:28, 29

I don't have any single thing in my life figured out. Nothing. I don't have the grief thing figured out, how to be a Godly woman, wife, mother, how to be a good cook, how to dress well... None of it. Not a thing. But, the only thing I know is that Jesus meant every single word in Scripture.

He means it, He's not kidding around

"Jennifer, come to Me..."

Everything is full of weariness to me, just like Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes. There were (and are) days my brain has spun in circles over the broken dreams, the shattered life I held for such a brief time

"You are laboring and heavy laden, but I am the only One that can give you the rest you need..."

I don't want Warner's life, my broken hopes and dreams to miss it. To miss the refinement to be had, the lessons to learn

"Follow Me, take Me on, learn from Me, Jennifer..."

My heart aches, it hurts, it longs for the dream that was ripped away from me. It longs to hold Warner just one more time. I want to say the things I've thought a million times since that I would have said

"I know you hurt and I am gentle. I am lowly in heart so that we could connect on a level that you didn't know possible..."

Mourning and grief over the dream takes a lot of mental work. And, that's okay. But, there are days when the energy just seems to be gone

"Only I can provide you the rest you need. I'm the One that doesn't run dry"

The dream may be broken and my little boy still gone, but I'm trusting Jesus for the rest I need to make it in a world where the dreams don't always turn out.

Goodbye 2013

There are some things you expect in grief and some things that pop up leaving you feel completely unprepared. The last two days have definitely found me in the unprepared camp. 

2013 is almost gone. A few more hours and it's a New Year. Out with the old and in with the new. But, what happens when you find yourself trying to do anything you can to keep the new from coming? What happens when the new holds a year in which your son is still dead? Or the new still has the cancer in it? Or still struggling to pay the bills? Or another year to figure out how on earth you're going to survive?

New doesn't always seem enticing. What happens when you find yourself trying to make a year {the object of time} something tangible enough to hold? You try to grab a hold of it any way possible only to realize it's something that can't be held at all. 

But, the old had the time in it when your son was still alive. The old had a time in it when there was still a paycheck. The old had the time in it before the test revealed the unimaginable. The old had the time in it when all was peaceful with those around you. But, here, on the brink of the new, you don't want to usher out all of the old. 

Then the flicker of hope burns again and Jesus does it. 

{He comes to make it all brand new}

"And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”" -Revelation 21:5a

The dead son, the no job, the cancer, the hurt, the turmoil... He redeems it. It doesn't get thrown aside never to be used again. That would be the easy way out. And, let's face it, easy seems enticing but it's never as worth it as the hard. 

Jesus did the hard. 

Grief. Man of sorrows. Beaten. Scorned. Crown of thorns. Cross. Risen again. 

To redeem even 2013. To usher in more hope and grace in 2014. To sustain and fill in the gaps of the old and the new. There's nothing we {or you} have walked this year that Jesus didn't see and walk with us. 

He's preparing the way for 2014 like He did for 2013. He's got even this

"Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." -Isaiah 43:19

So, goodbye 2013. You held the earthly life of my firstborn son. You held the beauty and pain of grieving one of my own. I don't want to let you go because letting go of you feels like saying goodbye to my son again. But, I'm going to do one better. I'm going to hand 2013 over to One that can make it new and use it in 2014 and beyond.