As I reflect on past journals and blogs I see a woman who is shattered but is clinging on to hope – the hope she has in Christ. I wonder where she went? I don’t feel hopeful. I haven’t in weeks. Maybe months? I’ve lost track.
I miss my son. I don’t understand why he killed himself. I want God to sit right here next to me and audibly tell me Drey is with Him. I hate my unbelief. I hate it I hate it I hate it. Yes, my son told me he accepted Christ as his savior. But that’s not enough for my broken heart. I’m so sick of reading books about the basics in search of a glimmer of rock solid, beyond a shadow of a doubt proof that my baby is in heaven. The knowledge I’ve acquired is nothing compared to the faith I wish I had. The faith I wish I FELT.
My heart is broken. I don’t know who I am. I’m supposed to be making plans for my boy’s 21st birthday. Instead I’m sleeping for 10 hours straight then waking up exhausted. This is new ground for me. And I hate it. How can I still be confronting new emotions, new levels of apathy and despair after almost 2 years? Isn’t 2 years enough time to wring out every last drop of emotion possible?
I visited a youth grief counseling camp last month and saw the art therapy they were doing. Masks. Painted on the outside and the inside. The outside displaying what they wanted others to see. The inside telling the rest of the story.
That’s how I feel. The one who is confident beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jesus Christ was fully God and fully man. He never sinned. He died for us. He rose! He overcame death! I can reference clear, factual proof for these things. Rejoice! Be glad! But the interior of the mask tells more of the story. It shows how little I care about the resurrection. The loss of my son is too heavy. It doesn’t feel like a “light and momentary affliction.” And I am so ashamed of my ungratefulness. God forgive me.
I’m still in the fight but I’m so weary.
September 12, 2012: “… I keep seeing pictures and moments with Drey in my mind. They won’t stop. I have no control. Should I try to make them stop? They hurt so bad. I don’t know how to grieve.”
Sept 16, 2012: “I’m sitting here by myself this evening. The person who signed up for bringing dinner forgot. People just go on with their lives. It hurts. It hurts that this ache I have is so deep and so real and others just forget. You alone are my God, my Lord. The One who will never forget. My life feels purposeless right now. Not because my only purpose in life was to be Drey’s Mom but because I’m so sad. So sad. Trying to find happiness or fun in the stupid things of this world is so wasteful. There’s just no point. All that matters is God. How can I glorify You in this, Father? How can I point others to You? Help me to set my mind on You. I wish I could know with even more certainty that Drey is with You, Lord. Thank you, God, for the goal Drey scored at the Senior night soccer game. Thank You that he prayed before the game. Thank You for honoring his prayer. Thank You that he told me he had prayed. Thank You I was there to see that game.”
September 17, 2012: “… I wish I didn’t have to take trazadone to sleep. It makes mornings even harder. I hurt deep down. And then I’m foggy on top of that. It’s a bad combination. Drey told me he accepted You… he asked You into his heart as a little boy. You love him perfectly. I want to believe that he is with you now! But I fear it’s only wishful thinking. I have doubts. I hate my doubts.”
Today: Hebrews 11 says that faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Sometimes it’s hard to have assurance about what we cannot see, about what we do not understand. Drey told me he had accepted Christ as his Savior. He confirmed that as recently as June before he died. What more assurance does a Mom need? Maybe he was just telling me what I wanted to hear? No… that’s not it. He told me all kinds of things a Mom does NOT want to hear! We had a special relationship that way. If he wasn’t sure about being a Christian he would’ve told me that, too. He tweeted a cool bible verse graduation weekend. He prayed – and what’s even more cool is that he remembered that he prayed and God played a role – that night at his soccer game. I see from really old journals where I made comments about him reading his bible and praying for his friends. So again – what more assurance does a Mom need? Isn’t that enough evidence of the Holy Spirit’s presence. But I want more assurance. I want God to stand before me and tell me He’s got my baby. It’s not that I think suicide is an unforgivable sin. It’s that I didn’t know my baby’s heart like God did when he made this decision. Did he really, really, really, truly mean it?
God loved my son more than I did. Verse after verse makes that clear to me.
God please help me in my unbelief. Help me to trust You.