Friday, December 28, 2012

My unanswered prayer.


As it is for most families grieving a loss, particularly the death of a child, the holidays bring up so many deep emotions -- moments of pure grief, where our hearts and minds are left to wonder, dreaming of what could have been.  Our family is no different.  This holiday I was once again reminded that my little boy is not here.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of him, in fact his legacy is so strong that I often find myself forgetting the fact that he isn't actually physically part of our family -- until a holiday or anniversary of some sort.  It's in those moments where Adam and I gather all our little ones together that I realize that he is truly missing.  The memory of his touch and scent becomes more and more distant as the years pass by.  I hate that.  



As we often do, this Christmas we spent some time together as a family at Gavin's grave.  I'm sure many people cannot fathom why we would take a place of mourning and make it a moment for our family to remember.  For me, as a mother, his grave is the one place we can be together.  Before you think on that too much let me explain this.  When we watched Gavin take his last breath, we witnessed first hand as his soul left his sick, swollen shell of a body. After his heart stopped it was very real to me -- that the body that held my little boy's soul was simply just that -- a body.  But for me as a mother that's the part I was able to hold and touch -- the part I gave birth to and held on my bare chest.  So to have all my babies in on place -- it's just a feeling I can't describe to you.

But that's not the only reason why I return to his grave.



Every time I stand at that grave I can't help but remember this one thing -- God didn't answer my prayer.  

And as I stand on top of his grave just feet away from his flesh -- holding my three beautiful babies, I am reminded in a powerful way that I am not in control, and for once in my life I don't feel like that is such a bad thing. Going back to the grave reminds me of something much bigger than myself -- that my life, my families life is being held in the palm of his strong hands -- I don't have to fight so hard, I don't have to figure it all out and I don't have to carry all the worry and fear our failing world throws on me.



As I look at his grave I am brought back to place of humility. But not humility, as in I am nothing. But rather just the opposite -- I am something.  I am someone He finds worthy, worthy enough to take my prayers and turn them into something bigger than I originally asked. He never ignored our prayers, in fact he heard each and every one -- and listened.  He didn't answer in the way we wanted, and I'll never understand the suffering.  But what I do know, is that when we choose to stop trying so hard to understand -- He tends to reveal so much, to heal and to restore.



So thankful that his grave is not a place of mourning, but a symbol of hope, peace and joy.


alessandra said...


nadine said...

thank you for these lovely photos of a family enjoying Xmas with little Gavin. I feel the same about the meaning of life, even though I am not a believer. Love, children and respect for any kind of life are values. I read your former posts every day, when my three-and-half old boy is asleep or busy browsing a picture book.

love from Nadine, Paris

Kate from Chasing Rainbows said...

So beautiful.

Unknown said...

Beautifully said. I cannot imagine your loss. However, your story and the hope and strength your family is now experiencing is amazing and I love to watch your family grow here. Thank you for sharing.

Phyllis said...

I am in tears! I cannot imagine how much you miss him. You look gorgeous by the way...I love the picture you and Gavin the best. I need this reminder often, that God is in control and my worrying is completely unnecessary.

ShaunaQ said...

Amen, Sister.

"let it be..."

Elyse said...

Beautifully written and stated. No one wants a little one to suffer but no one wants to deal with death either. Gavin is in heaven and smiling down at your family right now. He is pain free and watching over you as you did for him. No matter the circumstance, God is in control! Your blog is a beautiful testimony and I have been grateful to read your story.

Elyse Hahne

Anonymous said...

i can so relate to your pain - i also lost my little son that i did not give birth to but birthed me in more ways than one during his short time on this earth. my son was shaken very hard as a 7 month old baby and was very disabled ( the pre-adoption paperwork said "neurologically devastated". i adopted him when he was 2. i had the joy and honor of being his mom for 4 years only. he passed away 3 years ago. at home, on hospice, in my arms. he was a light in this world that only parents of children with disability could understand. he radiated love and peace. my heart will never be the same having loved and having lost my sweet anthony... seems like your precious gavin was the same... xoxo anne in ny

My Twisting Kaleidoscope said...

In the midst of all the tragic/horrific news of the world, this is the one blog I love to read: it restores my faith in humanity. Thank u for sharing ur beautiful story with us all.

James Walker said...

Mrs. Owens, I have two cousins who suffered as you have at almost the same time. I cannot imagine the pain and suffering you have felt. But, I admire your energy and passion for life. You are an inspiring women, as is your family. May your days continue to be filled with endless joy.