A Time to Mourn …

the four seasons.jpg

I’ve never “gotten over” the death of my daughter. I used to believe that old adage that time heals all wounds.  Not anymore.  Some wounds never really heal.

Though it has been over ten years since that cold, snowy night when I was jolted awake by a midnight phone call from my panicked son telling me that my daughter had been stabbed, all it takes is a single thought and I can be reliving that moment as if it was yesterday.

And, I still run from the thoughts of all that happened that night.

Something about coming face-to-face with evil changes you forever.

I also know that stuffing your emotions is harmful, but self-preservation bids me  run, and hide, and wall off many of those thoughts and feelings.

I am learning - ever so slowly - to bring the pain to God asking Him to take the pain, the wonderings, the questions surrounding that night. I know it’s best to face those feelings with His help as I truly believe that they have been a major part of my health decline these past years.

Today, as I tried to allow some of those emotions to spill out, I became overwhelmed and picked up my iPad to distract myself by reading my mail.

What did I find but a devotional from a gal whose newborn grandson had died only hours after birth.

The verse she cited?

To everything there is a season …

I had my daughter for twenty-nine years — her last year being the closest we had been since she had grown up.

So, while I continue to mourn the loss of my precious firstborn, I see the blessing.

I had twenty-nine years.

Some have only a few years, or days, or even minutes with their child.  Some, never are able to hold their babe in their arms at all.

So, yes, while in the midst of incredible loss that seems never ending, I find a blessing.

It seems, when I look hard enough, when I am open enough, the blessing always shines through.

Thank you, Lord, for meeting me where I am.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven;

a time to be born, and a time to die; 

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 

a time to kill, and a time to heal; 

a time to break down, and a time to build up; 

a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; 

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 

a time to seek, and a time to lose; 

a time to keep, and a time to cast away; 

a time to tear, and a time to sew; 

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

How precious it is to hold on to God’s timing.

 © deni weber 2010-2015