I’ve been fighting my Father. My Lord, my Savior, my Abba, my Almighty.
Tooth and nail, I’ve waged in a bloody and emotional battle with Him. I’ve screamed, I’ve cried, I’ve begged and I’ve cursed. Layer upon layer of pain has landed squarely in His lap.
Because in the interest of complete transparency, I really just don’t want to be an inspiration, the strongest person you know or the reason why you change your life.
I don’t want to be any of those things BECAUSE I am those things BECAUSE my kids died.
I’m broken, depressed, and often, so furious I could spit nails.
And in the midst of it all, I’m supposed to find purpose, listen for His voice and somehow inspire all of you.
And I just. don’t. want. to.
What I WANT is to be a Mommy. A wife. A mother whose worries are about school, friendships, teenage angst and little people learning to read. A wife who listens, who puts her husband first, who plows over anything in her way to make sure her husband knows she is his #1 fan, cheerleader and soulmate.
What I WANT is my kids back.
And while I know I can’t have that-and while I know He knows my pain, therefore I know He can carry me, lead me, and help me find the purpose in the pain.
I. still. don’t. want. to.
I want to sit on my couch all day, staring at the television in my pajamas, so intently focused on the fake life I’m watching that the one I now hate living doesn’t invade my consciousness.
I want the people who made life changing choices to stop posting their blessed life and dreams come true all over social media. It’s incredibly insensitive, and is a literal salt poured into an open and gaping wound of a life filled with exponentially shattered dreams and broken hearts.
I want the people who are supposed to love us no matter what to remove their expectations from our grief and just grant us grace. Because as a wise pastor I know and love reminded me the other day, expectation and grace ARE mutually exclusive and simply cannot exist in the same relationship.
I want to have just one day where I know joy in my heart instead of angst in my soul. One day where every time I look at the children I still have, I’m not seized by fear over their futures. Over the choices they may make to blot out the loneliness, the guilt, the anger and the pain. One day where the pain on my husband’s face and in his eyes disappears for just a little while, a day where I know he isn’t faking it for the world to see, but is truly, honestly, joyful.
Yet…somewhere in my soul I know-because of Him, in Him and simply, by His extroardinary grace…I know it’s not about what I want, but about what He needs from me. And He needs me to recognize that in Him and Him alone…
I. AM. STRONG. I’m like a little Hercules in leopard print pants and too much jewelry. My t
iny little spiritual muscles bulging when I let Him build me up.
Cassie (not so gently…) reminded me of that recently. Sometimes we have to get a little cranky with each other to make a point-hers was this.
You have done and are doing, this hard thing. This hard thing that is every parent’s worst nightmare. And in the midst of it all, you have kept going, you keep doing and you refuse to give up. And then she told me to just give up for a few days.
Just give up.
So I did. Because I desperately, greedily, needed to.
I needed to give up for a few days. I needed to be alone, be quiet, be still. And not be your inspiration, the strongest person you know or the reason why you don’t yell at your kids anymore. (Or just not as much as you used to…)
Please, please, please-don’t take any of this personally. Not one single one of you. I’m not angry that you say those things or feel them or even that you truly believe them. Your love, concern, care and true hearts have been and continue to be such a blessing in my life and the life of my family.
I’m angry that I AM that person.
Because I don’t want to wear this badge, be in this club or learn what it means to wait patiently for the day I finally meet my Jesus and see my babies again.
Not writing is my way of telling my patient, precious and perfect Creator to stick it where the sun don’t shine. (this is probably not wise, considering He’s pretty powerful and I’m like a tiny inconsequential ant…) So when I’m quiet, I’m probably behaving like a cranky toddler who refuses to do what the Father says because I just. don’t. want. to.
Or it’s really because I need to be strong and for Him to-
Set a guard, O Lord, over my lips.
Psalm 141:3
To keep me bound-
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouth, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.
Ephesians 4:29
To forgive me when I confess that right now, at this very moment- I love my precious, dead children more than I love Him.
That I would set myself ablaze and give myself over the enemy for just one more moment of time with them. Just one more hug, one more kiss and one more-“Mama, I love you.”
Because He will forgive me-
He knows me.
He knows my heart.
He knows my soul.
And He created me to withstand this. To survive it, to be strong, to inspire and to make us all want to be a better child of God.
When I am weak and weary, when I doubt, when I simply want to give up and die right along with my Mercy and Sammy, He shows up in the smallest of places. He reminds me gently of my need for Him, of His boundless grace and how loving Him first and most is the only way I’ll ever shed this sackcloth and be clothed in joy once again.
He blesses me…
…In the hug of my son, the “I love you!” of my daughter, the simple presence of my parents. Sometimes a mama just needs a hug and a broken hearted child just needs her Mom and Dad, no matter how old she is…
…In a verse sent by a friend, reminding me that even though I feel terribly alone, abandoned and forgotten, I AM NOT-
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.
Psalm 56:8
…By another friend encouraging me, one who fights his own battles with the world over his disabled son every day-who thanked me recently for not giving up on his family even when the going got so rough it seemed like it would never be peaceful again. Who knew just what to say to remind me that my words have weight, purpose and meaning.
…By faithful friends, ones who are the hands and feet of Jesus as they plod painfully alongside us through the minefield of grief.
And the King will answer them, I assure you: Whatever you did for the least of these brothers of Mine, you did for Me.
Matthew 25:45
…And by the soul saving words of a fellow grieving friend, whose offer to pray for those we simply can’t pray for right now was a priceless, precious spiritual gift.
Greater love has no one than than this, that one lay down his life for his friends. 
John 15:13
Because as true, soul seeking, Jesus loving, self sacrificing followers of Christ, we can truly only lay our burdens down-
at the foot of the cross
at the feet of Jesus
in His rest
and in His appointed time.
So many blessings, so many relationships that only He could ordain, that only He could bring to pass, that only He could shift and shape.
His sovereign, simple grace weaving it’s dominion over us all.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28
But these are really NOT my words.
Our Creator left a priceless and precious gift when He shed His blood for us 2016 years ago…
The Holy Spirit…the indwelling and precious presence of Christ in all who believe. And I believe and know with all that I am as a child of our great and mighty God, that it is from Him that all these words flow.
I learned recently that Missionaries aren’t just those people who make the absolutely incomprehensible choice to leave all they know, put their lives at risk and live in circumstances we would never dream of to spread the love of Christ and the Gospel.
We are ALL missionaries. Every single believer in this fractured and fallen world is a missionary. And while I can’t lead a single one of you to Christ, I can love you the way that He loves me. I can write when I don’t want to, I can be so transparent I’m practically see through and I can be honest. Because it’s in the blatant and raw honesty that you will see the Love of Christ, the Hand of God, the Truth.
That nothing in this world will ever separate us from the love of Christ and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. NOTHING. Not even this.
Because-
His mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning.
Lamentations 3:22
And truthfully, they are new every moment of the day.
So, at this moment, today, Lord-
Please, forgive me.
Forgive my anger.
My disobedience.
My distrust.
My idolatry.
Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me.
Psalm 51:10
Thank you-every one of you who has blessed us with your overarching love, your fragant and precious prayers, your blessed words of encouragement even when I really didn’t want to hear them. Thank you for continuing to read my words, to hear my cries and to keep your hearts open to the precious love of our Father. Please don’t stop loving us, praying for us and speaking your hearts to each of us.
So if I can inspire one thing in you today, please let it be this.
Don’t let the sun go down on your cries today. Our prayers are a precious and fragant offering to the Holy and Almighty God-offer them with all that you are and ask Him to reveal to you just what it is you will do to bring Him the honor, the glory and the praise that is His and His alone.
BE His missionary, wherever you are and in all that you do.
BE Jeremiah 17:8
They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when the heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.
with all the love in my heart, O God, please, let these words be precious and pleasing to You.
love,
clan mac mama