Monday, November 5, 2012

Meet me here.


I think so many times in life we feel we need to be or act a certain way before God can use us or even take the time to give us an ounce of his grace or his listening ear.  We live each and every day striving to become a better person, make the right choices, reach a certain status, thinking that once we reach the next level we will be in the perfect place for God to take our lives and make something amazing out it.

That is the biggest lie ever.

In the last days of Gavin life Adam and I had so many emotions running thought our hearts – it was as if our minds kept continually spinning out of control reaching highest of highs and then suddenly dropping down to the lowest of lows.  I felt peace, but I also was so scared.  I hurt so bad, so much so that at times lifting my head felt impossible – yet somehow I also was filled with joy.  I felt so much love and at the same time I hated God – I hated that he was letting my little boy slowly drown in his own fluid right before my eyes.

We are never in a more perfect place then when we are in a moment of surrender -- A moment of raw emotion.  A moment where we put down the Dear Jesus and Amen and simply cry out to God with the purest of emotion.  


There are things that I still have trouble wrapping my heart and mind around, wanting to understand why things happened the way they did.  I don’t have answers but I’ve got one strong feeling -- He met me there. As I sat at Gavin’s bedside and made decisions that would ultimately determine my own child’s fate -- He met me there.

You may never watch your children die.  But you will certainly walk through your valley.  You will absolutely have a time in your life, if not already, where you question and scream out to God in disbelief and lack of understanding.  Just remember this.

He will meet you there.

Don’t feel like you need to see signs of healing before you are healed.  Don’t feel like you need to find understanding before you can find peace.  Don’t wait for a smile to feel joy.


He will meet you there -- in the dirt, in the pain, in the confusion and He will walk you out.  Sometimes a long slow painful process and sometimes in the blink of an eye.

God, my words are insufficient.
My pain is softer but still hurts.
My hope is strong but my heart still wonders why.
Restoration is flowing from pain,
Churning my soul,

Jesus meet me here.

November 5, 2009

A little more time.

"More time -- that's all I really want right now.  We have been talking about Gavin's death before he was even born, yet nothing could have prepared me what these next few days or weeks will hold.  I find myself in disbelief as I hear the words come out of the doctor's mouth.  I just want more time.

I want so badly to bring him home into the house that so many people have worked so hard to make happen -- but I just don't know if it will happen.  The doctors believe he does not have much longer.  I believe he is going to come home, but as I sit hear and listen to the alarms going off telling me that the bipap is breathing for him I start to question.  My heart feels that if we can just get him home -- give him something to fight for, he will turn around.  I would be happy with just another week.  I want his Doctor there.  I want to make sure the photographer is there.  I want my family there.  I want it all to be prefect and planned.

Death is anything but planned.

It sucks.

The difficult part of this process is that Adam and I's decisions determine how long we have.  He is suffering. In order to relieve that suffering we want to give him the medication he needs to find peace and relief.  More more meds we push, the more difficult it is for him to breath. Although lots of fluid was pulled off him over the past two days his lungs have not improved, but rather have gotten worse.

I just want more time."


Jessica said...

"Just as I am, without one plea
But that Thy blood was shed for me.
And that Thou bids't me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come. I come. "

Karen, I have been in both of these places....I have cried out so many times both before and after losing Eithene. I can attest that like you, God has always met me.

Thinking of your family this week, and of sweet Gavin.

JayCee said...

I haven't lost a child so I don't know your pain but I have been through an agonizing situation and I can agree with you: God met me there.
I love this part you wrote:
"Don’t feel like you need to see signs of healing before you are healed. Don’t feel like you need to find understanding before you can find peace. Don’t wait for a smile to feel joy." - That's good stuff! :)

heather mize said...

Thank you for the reassurance. My husband and I have a severely disabled little girl and know that our time on earth with her will probably be short. It is impossible to prepare for losing a child, but what peace to believe that He will be there. God bless you! {just found your blog and have been so blessed by it}

Anonymous said...

I have read this blog entry at least 20 times over the last few days. The words God gave you have been a great source of comfort. What an awesome thing that He will meet us wherever we are. Thank you for being willing to share your heart. God bless you now and always.

Michelle said...