When people say these kinds of things I would be lying to say that I am not a little flattered but honestly I am mostly flabbergasted because they don’t know what is really going on in my head. Honestly, in this woman’s body I am a scared little child and I have carried more than my share of grief in this heart of mine. Anything strong or outspoken that comes out of me is not of me, it is definitely of my Creator, the One who is in the process of creating Himself in me.
Hot tears started flowing this morning, I had been wondering why they hadn’t come. I have had this knowledge of the latest heartbreak for about a month. When I start to cry I wonder some of the craziest things like, why are the tears so hot? Is it because I’ve held them in for so long? I’m glad, though, that they are finally flowing.
My big 10 lb. 5 oz. baby son ripping himself out of my body. God told me that there was a call on his life before he was born and gave me his name. He had such a big, big heart when he was a little boy. He was the most caring and compassionate of my children as a child. Before he could write legibly I remember very well the poem that he dictated to me to write that was to me, for me and about me. I still have it and treasure the memory of it. When he was four years old, if I was busy, he would come sit close to me and spell words for me out of a book so that he could read the book to himself. Really he’s the one of all my children who inherited my love for reading.
I had a dream about him when he was a baby, that I was holding on to him for dear life trying to keep him from falling into a huge vat of hot boiling oil but I fell asleep and he fell in. I have known for a few years now that God was showing me what was to come in that dream.
Jail. My son in jail. Not the first time but I pray the last time. Heartbreak. He’s 25 now. First time there he was 17. It never stops being heartbreaking. Not minor charges, very serious ones. What caused this, one may ask. He had lots of friends, a really likable lovable personality, his future in sports and college scholarships was bright. He had dreams and I had dreams for him. He knew the Lord at one time and sought Him and served Him until adolescence. But the enemy stole in and took advantage of weakness…drugs, pain, his unhealed wounds are the roots of it all.
Now, more memories coming back. The long uphill trek from the parking lot to the entrance of the huge monstrous mountain of a cavernous jail where he was and is again. Standing in lines to visit him for hours and sometimes being turned away after the wait because visiting hours were over. Contemplating as I waited, wondering if it was my prayers for him that had put him there. Being treated like a criminal, myself, when I walked in the door of the jail. Putting a little money on his account so that he can have a few bare necessities. Picking up his clothes from the county jail when he was sent off to the penitentiary at age 17 and opening up the box of clothes that he was wearing when he was arrested that still carried his scent so strongly. The pallor of his skin and the sunken look in his eyes the first time he was released from prison.
Another memory etched into my mind…the morning phone call a couple of years later by the police informing me that he was in ICU because he had walked out onto a major highway in front of a fast moving 18-wheeler in a drug induced haze. Even though he never admitted it to me I knew he was trying to kill himself and according to the ER technician, they thought he was a goner, he was in ICU for 1 week and then there was a long recovery. Multiple broken bones, internal injuries, a rod inserted in his left leg to permanently replace his left femur. After that, he cut himself out of my life. Disappeared.
Now, I’m sending him a card every week and hoping that he hasn’t given up on me because I will never give up on him. Knowing that in his heart he thinks he has given up on God. Finally receiving a letter from him “I love you, Mama. I’m glad I’m here. I was desperate for change and I know that this is the only way that I could get it”. Sentenced to…6 months of drug rehab in the penitentiary…etcetera, etcetera.
And life goes on, and I keep trying to put one foot in front of the other. And people around me, hustling and bustling, many of them carrying their own loads of pain in their hearts. What am I supposed to do? Sometimes I just feel numb. What is the politically correct way to act? Where can I run to escape?
In my lifetime I have had a tendency to isolate. Am I isolating when I am staying home with the door shut so as not to welcome anyone to knock?
There is no place to run to escape these facts of life.
I pick up my Bible once again and read, I turn on the praise music that I love. I hear a song that says that “He makes beautiful things out of dust…out of us”. I know this is true. I start to feel a little stronger. I pray, pray and pray a little more. I write. Praying without ceasing.
I am not strong, I am not outspoken. When you see me you see His grace.
I am weak, I am a shell. When you read strong words that flow from my fingers onto this page, it is My Lord and Savior Jesus Christ whom you see, not I. When you think that my words or opinions are outspoken it is because He is speaking through me.
When I gently disagree or lovingly set my own boundaries with someone it is because His gentleness is flowing from me. Not mine. I am not gentle or kind, I want to blow them off and say a few choice words but it’s Him taking control and flowing through me.
I am not a forgiving person; when I am being nice to someone who has hurt me it is He who has forgiven them through me…for me. There is no way that I could have done it without His Holy Spirit flowing through me and acting on my behalf.
He is making this shell that is me into a temple where He is able to dwell. He is bringing new understandings to me, every day. He is taking me deeper and deeper because this is what I pray for.
In order to dispel the ugly things that are me, I have to be emptied. The emptying comes with the unbearable pain that I turn to Him to rid me of because my faith in Him tells me that He is the only One who can do this.
“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love”
Love is the motivator, the engine, my love for whatever and whoever I love drives me to the faith I have in the fact that He can do ALL things. My faith plants that seed in me that is HOPE. And that HOPE grows and grows and becomes the HOPE that is within me and the HOPE is HIM.
Love to you and blessings to you. Join me in HOPE, if you please.