Sitting, nursing, listening to my daughter recite her verses for AWANAs I turn the page. There at the top, a question:
“What is something going on in your life you can pray about?”
And an answer:
“My mom and dad.”
My breath catches in my throat. She has gone on to her next verse, but the words seem suddenly so far away and I am here on this page.
Yes, sweetheart, pray for me. Forgive me. Grant me an extra measure of grace and compassion. And when I have used it all, I pray that you may find that little bit more we are going to need to get through this as a family.
This is hard. So very hard. I want so much to be the mother you need me to be. To guide you through this grief. To guide you through this transition into womanhood. But I can scarcely see beyond all those yesterdays standing between me and your little brother. My son.
It hurts. All the time. It takes everything I have to get out of bed in the morning, to face another day without him.
You would think that it would be easy. Easy to draw close that which I hold most dear in this world and show you the lovingkindness of a mother to her precious child.
But I’m walking through a whirlwind of emotion, of fear, hurt, anger and this incredible sadness that sucks the color out of life. There is a tempest brewing always just beneath the surface. When I’m shaken, when all the little nuisances of the day break through that fragile surface, I never know how I will respond. Sometimes I remember your pain and just want to hold you close and cry. Sometimes the whole storm pushes through and I yell and plead and cry. Sometimes I don’t have the energy to respond at all.
I’m fighting this thing that threatens to consume me. I’m fighting the fog and the numbness and the hurt so that I can begin each day anew. I’m fighting for you. Because you still deserve a mother who greets each day with a smile and who looks to the future with hope.
So please, my dear sweet child, please continue to pray for me. And know that I am always here for you, praying that we weather this storm and that His light may guide us safely home. Together.
Welcome to Roscommon Acres, my little home in the country. I write here about life more abundantly, from the joy of a baby’s smile to the almost unbearable grief of losing a son. I am seeking beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair (Isaiah 61:3).
Just place "Tiggy" in the subject line.
I’m a missionary living in Russia and came across your blog through a mutual blog. I just want you to know that I am praying for you. Thanks for sharing your heart and I trust that in time the Lord will heal all the pain and hurt you are experiencing.
Thank you, Natalie. It is so hard, and amidst all of it, I fear making things harder on my children rather than helping them. We have had a lot of good conversations that I think have helped all of us. Sometimes I find myself needing to tell me the same things I tell them. But other times, I just don’t seem to be able to handle all the little things and find myself irritable and ready to snap at the smallest of things.
I just want to give you a hug! Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your kids know this is hard and painful for you too. Remember you are human! I pray that God gives you strength and grace. I pray for you and your family, and hope that His comforting arms surround you and your family.
In the middle of the day yesterday, around noon, I was driving home from Food City and I was struck with the strongest need to pray for you and I did. I don’t know you, so it’s odd to me when those times come, but we are in the truest sense, sisters and so I pray with fervent earnestness that God will grant what you are asking. Grace to be the mom and wife that He asks you to be. To fight and win the battle against being consumed with this grief. And when it seems like you can’t even take another breath, that He will do the extraordinary and mount you on the wings of eagles.
Dana,
I’ve been journeying with you, since sometime in January, when I heard about Tiggy at Raising Olives. Have been checking in on you and yours daily to see how to pray. Thanking God for you, your husband, Tiggy, Bear, and all of your little ones. Each time I try to comment, my words seem awfully small. Pressing in to leave a message this time.
Several weeks ago, I was sitting in my friend’s prayer room sipping tea. She was resting in her prayer chair, little one in her womb. I was directly across from her on the couch, under pictures hanging on the wall of each one of her children, pictures large and beautiful. Tucker’s picture always stands out to me, because I have yet to meet him face to face. He is with Tiggy in heaven. He moved to heaven before Darci and I met, a few weeks shy of his third birthday. Remember hearing this at church and beginning to pray for them. Darci and I met shortly after Tucker’s homegoing. Your blogging is a gift to grieving hearts, as is hers at http://darcisalisbury.com/mat. My prayers will continue to go with you until we meet together with Jesus. All of us together. Trusting Jesus is enough. He’s the only one who reaches in waves like those.
Darci said that for many, many days she sat in her prayer chair for two to three hours at a time. She, like you, loves her husband and each one of her children fiercely. Our great God carries you and yours through this intense storm, and people you don’t even know, love you fiercely, too. Our family is praying for yours.
Love in Jesus,
Linda
I wish I could be near enough to wrap my arms around you and hold you once in awhile. Your pain is so strong that I feel it way over here and want to comfort, to shelter. And so I pray instead and hope that you feel His arms around you instead.
Hi Dana
By now you know that we all have an opinion…have a suggestion…take it all with a “wheat and chaff” view…
Here is something you already know…I’m just reminding you. First off, God is so big, Grace is so present and you are so loved.
In the long run, when your children look back at this time they will have a lot of feelings, a lot of memories. You being able to talk with them and soothe them, hear them, love them…this is all so wonderful….AND…
When they look back on this time, Dana they are also going to remember how grieved you were. How much it hurt. How empty you felt. How angry you got and how hard you fought…and you are fighting hard. These things are a testimony not to your own strength and perseverance but to your love for your boy and your entire family. This is not a bad thing, this is a very good good thing.
This is SO important. This is so very important. Your love for all of them is not diminished because you take the time to grieve your beautiful boy. I promise you, they are not deprived because you grieve. This is fresh a wound, so recent, so tremendously large a loss…please trust in the process. Know that God is big…Grace is present and you are loved.
Dana, what a touching post. I think of you often and and continue to pray for you and your family. Thanks for your openness and honesty as you continue to weather this tragic storm.
Dear Dana,
You don’t know me and I’m not even sure if I should write but I found your blog today and it brought back so many memories. I lost a brother five years ago. It’s not the same, I know but so much of what you write brings back the feeling I had then. I am sure you have far closer friends who can help you better than anything I can say and who have lost those they love but just in case it helps I wanted you to know that it does get better. You never forget, there is always a hole but the ache eases with time and someday you sit there and remember only the better times. I don’t think I fully understood the atonement of Christ until it happened and the healing took a long time but it did happen and in the end my family was almost stronger for it. Every day I wish Nathan were back but I see now that the Lord can make good things out of our worst nightmares. I was angry though for so long and so many days just ached. Hang on and know my love and prayers go out to you.
Tonia Davis
Dana,
I was at Raising Arrows.net today and saw that Amy wrote a devotional for grieving mothers. It is offered free, and it may be of comfort to you. Our prayers go with you and your family.
Kelli
You remain in my prayers, dear Dana.
The simple fact that she believes that prayer can help shows what good parents you are. I believe that God will honor your faithfulness and protect your family.
I know your grief makes it hard to do the things you want to do for your family, but it teaches them valuable lessons too – such as how important they are, how much they are loved, how we sometimes have to do things when we don’t feel like doing them, that feelings aren’t always good excuses for behaviors. The fact that you do persevere every day is meaningful. There will be regrets, but hopefully there will also be blessings along the way.
I pray for God to bring you comfort, strength and peace.
Precious sister in Christ – you are in my fervent prayers too.
I cannot fathom your pain. I don’t know if it’s of any comfort, but your willingness to share this present grief, your story, has changed my story. My days and hours and minutes are forever changed because of the love and loss of your beautiful Tiggy.
I sit her and weep for you. I weep for so many, for staggering-down pain, for senseless loss. And my tears clear out a path for being a better woman, wife, mommy. My tears wash away the cloudiness of hurry-sickness, and slow me down to savor the seven little lives before me.
Thank you. So much. For the courage to share, and give life away in your words.
Teri
there are no words;
yet you say them all.
i pray for you;
yet i don’t know you.
i see your pain;
but i can’t touch it.
your little boy is lost;
and she prays for you.
by the grace of God you will smile again.
Thank you everyone for your kind words. When I look at my children, I feel somewhat like I did when my eldest was first diagnosed with ulcerative colitis: just helpless. I know prayer and love will sustain us, but it is difficult to see past where we are right now.
Dana,
What a beautiful post! But pelase remember that even us mommies who can still hold all our babies don’t get up with a smile every day, and can’t see the future with perfect hope. It’s sad, but true. I lvoe that you want to be more for her, a GREAT mommy, instead of just a good one. And about seeing past where you are- there’s the saying that you know where you’re going but you just can’t see the way. I wish I could take that PAIN away, and leave only the good. I wish, I wish. But I can’t. So I’ll pray instead.
Angela, what a beautiful thing to read! I had to read it twice, definitely wheat!
(((Dana))) You are a wonderful mommy! Our kids learn so much more from how we face death than how we face life. You are pointing them to Christ and showing them that yes, life can be hard but God is faithful. Praying for you, my friend.
‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’ Isaiah 41:10
May our LORD above bless and continue to uphold and comfort you and your family!
Your Sister in Christ