I cried yesterday.
As I quickly headed toward the KidzHop room to pick up the little boys, I had no choice but to pass the junior high room. On instinct my eyes searched for your face in the crowd of teenagers. Then the weight of knowledge set down on my heart and I remembered I wouldn't see your face in there. I hurried along with tears in my eyes.
It's been four days since you left. Slowly we are all adjusting and finding our rhythm. But this has been the most difficult transition yet. The boys keep asking about you, keep accidentally calling you for meals. Joshua called Jamarcus Isaac yesterday when he walked into the room. Your absence is felt.
There is an aching hole in our home and in our hearts now that you've left. You have become so much a part of each of us. I prayed for this day to come. Yearning for the acceptance and love we have now found from you. I longed for the day that you would trust me and confide in me and turn to me in moments of fear or uncertainty. I prayed for your confidence in me. I prayed for peace and unity in our home. The fruit of those prayers blossomed ripe and sweet this summer. Joy exploded in my heart. My spirit rejoiced.
I never stopped to think in the midst of all that praying how much it would devastate us all when we would have to part from you. I never realized the kind of gut-wrenching pain we would suffer when you would leave. I feel like a part of me has been severed. A mama bear looking all over for her cub that has been stolen away from her is how I honestly feel.
I know you aren't technically my cub and you weren't taken, but returned. In my head I know all of that. But my heart is broken. I am struggling this year. You took a huge hunk of me with you. The tears keep flowing at the most inopportune moments.
I know I'm probably really greedy and selfish. But I wish you never had to leave. I want to pray and beg God to now make it so you never have to leave us; that you can come and stay all the time. I know that's wrong and isn't my place to ask. I know it isn't within His will for your life. I love you enough to not ask such selfish things.
I pray His will be done, not mine. I pray that His joy find us both, wherever we are in moments of torment or loneliness. I pray that His wisdom would rain down on you in all areas of your life and that He would open your eyes that you may see all He has in store for you and all He is calling you to do.
I pray that He infuse you with a spirit of boldness and courage in the face of persecution and adversity. I pray that He build you up every time someone knocks you down. Better yet, I pray that He be the Rock on which you lean, so that when others come and try to push you down-you won't budge, because your God is immovable.
I miss you. I miss your contagious, infectious laughter. I miss your encouraging words. I miss your poutty face when you don't want to do the dishes. I miss our talks and your openness and sincerity. I miss your passion for God and your family and your intense desire to see each one saved. I miss your maturity one moment and your innocence the next. I miss watching you play with the boys and hearing the giggles erupt from you all. I miss listening to you and your dad talk and debate and laugh together.
You are partner in crime. You really became my best pal this year. I miss you.
I cried again today.
Comments
Post a Comment