Mother of Seven + 2

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.  I wanted to weep.  There seemed only a shell left of the man I knew and loved. But it was a day of celebration.  Resurrection Sunday.  Easter.  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I left a feather soft kiss on his cheek and said words to distract my hurting heart.  "I bet you are enjoying having your family all home."  With effort he acknowledged he was. Taking a deep breath I headed to my seat as the tears threatened to fall.  It was a beautiful service.  Songs about the Father's great love for us, praises to God for the resurrection, and worship from the body of Christ filled my heart full. Even as I lifted my voice and offered myself to God, there was a bittersweet ache as the shadow of death lingered near.  There were no more medication options.  Hospice was coming this week. What brings a dying man to church?  Every move took great effort.  But he was there.  There was no where else he would have wanted to be.  I knew th

Worship this past Easter Sunday brought tears.  They were tears of gratefulness for all God has done for me.  They were tears of longing for the coming of Jesus and the final resurrection.  They were tears of joy for the hope that we have through the resurrection of our Savior.  They were even tears of pain being released....pain that is the result of hardship and suffering in this world. This morning I read about the suffering we are called to in Christ. "But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed."  I Peter 4:13 My heart is full as I realize that yesterday was just a taste of that glory that will someday be revealed to us.  A small taste of glory...that my soul deeply longs for. The past four years have been difficult for me.  I have watched one son walk away from his family and his faith.  I've watched another son struggle with deep dark depression, and I've suffered from depr

"What does it take to get on your church's prayer list?  Do you have to have a heart attack?" These words grabbed me this morning as I was listening to an interview with Alistair Begg. I'd been awake since 3:45 this morning.  My heart was heavy with concern for the spiritual lives of several of our boys.  I'd been laying it before God, but I was also hurting and feeling alone.  I was questioning my parenting and wondering where I had gone wrong.  Part of me feared judgment if I reached out and asked for prayers for some of the struggles.   I was fighting my own spiritual battle of feeling like giving up.  There was the temptation to wash my hands of it all and walk away.  I felt drained. My husband, understanding my need to rest and refuel, sent me to my room today and ordered our younger two "to leave mom alone."  After listening to a couple sermons, I read the book of Colossians.  At the close of the book, Paul instructs the believers to "De