When you can't save someone you love from the pain

Did you know that all moms have a superpower?

It's called, "Let-me-kiss-it-and-make-it-all-better!"

It's also known as "I-would-step-in-front-of-a-speeding-train-to-save-you!"

Moms care. Deeply. Passionately. Too much at times.

From the moment we are aware of the life within us, we don our Supermom capes and with the wind blowing them out behind us, we take our stand firmly on the Mountain of Love, vowing to do whatever is necessary to protect this wee one entrusted to us against any pain or sadness.

And Lord knows we have to! I've never met a child yet who entered the world fully capable of taking care of themselves physically or mentally! As much as their crying and clinging and needs can drive us crazy, they also empower us with a feeling that we are Needed. Necessary. Able with a single leap to put that smile back on a child's hurting face.

So for 18 some odd years that super power grows. And it feels good. And it works!

Then the day comes when your child is no longer a child, but an adult....who's now busy guarding and caring for his own family. And his wife has her own Supermom cape, and ours has been relegated to mothballs. As it should be.

Until the day suffering comes crashing in...throwing loved ones left and right and leaving a wake of brokenness and tears in its wake.

And it happens to YOUR BABY!

And not just YOUR BABY, but YOUR BABY'S BABIES!

"How dare you?" we cry as we run to the closet, frantically searching for our discarded cape, mothballs rolling across the floor.

"Show me the Monster that dare hurt my child! I shall slay it with a thousand swords!"

And God knows we mean it with all of our heart...a heart that still lives and beats for the good of our child.

But the years have humbled us...we have lived too long and seen too much. Suffering and loss and shattered dreams have become a fact of life. And band aids and kisses will never fix the pain again.

What do you do at a time like this?

What do I do at a time like this?

I get angry. And I get angry. And angry yet again.

Angry that sin ever entered the world...that it stole what was once perfect and whole and good. And replaced it with pain and suffering and death.

We all have a longing in us for the way it was meant to be. And I think Moms especially operate under this power. It's what gives us the vision and strength to do and be all that is best for our children and family.

Until the day comes that we can't.

When you haven't loved well and you know it

They say honesty, openness, and transparency make for a good blog post. We shall see.

This is one of those written-from-the-heart-I'm-not-sure-what-people-will-think-but-I'm-going-to-risk-it-anyway blogs.

The humbling kind.

The kind that I will still include in my grandchildren's book someday, thankful that they can learn from my mistakes...probably glad that I will be gone by the time they read it. Grandchildren do seem to idolize their grandparents, don't they?

So, I've cancelled all my activities for the day. I've told my husband not to come home for lunch. I've nixed attending tonight's Bible study. All I want to do is cry. And think. And repent.

There are days you can run from what God is saying, and there are days you need to turn around and embrace it. This feels like one of those Jonah Days...when God allows you to slam into a wall and you realize that you have been running in the wrong direction...moving under your own power and understanding...

But now it's time to stop. Turn around. And repent.

Seriously, God?

Sunday afternoon...my absolute favorite time of the week...a Mayberry-kind-of-feeling.

We were all in a semi-conscious state after a busy week, so I thought a movie was in order.

Flicking our way through Amazon, we found something that looked interesting...Rabbit Hole. We read the synopsis, pressed Play and off we went.

By the time it was done, there was dead silence. And a desire to weep. And hug someone.

And never let go.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

And now I really can't.

For later that day I heard that a worship leader from a nearby church, Gentry Eddings, and his family were returning from a wedding when an 18 wheeler plowed into them from behind. Their 2 year old son was killed and his wife, Hadley, 8 months pregnant at the time, was rushed to deliver their baby at a nearby hospital. And it looked like he would make it.

This tragedy put flesh on what Hollywood had only dreamed up.

If I hadn't seen the movie, I don't think I could put my mind around the valley they were entering...the raw pain of what was thrust upon them.

So I prayed. And wept. And thanked God that by His mercy their unborn child would live. That there would be some consolation in this tragedy.

But their unborn son didn't live. They got empty arms. Again.

Seriously, God?

Magnificent Heartbreak

Wherever humans garden magnificently,

there are magnificent heartbreaks.

 Henry Mitchell

Forgive me, Henry, but I'd like to make a substitution...

Wherever humans live magnificently,

there are magnificent heartbreaks.

Arlene Tencza

We attended a wedding this past weekend...the glorious culmination of many years of waiting and praying and dreaming on the part of two people.

As I sat there watching them come together for their first dance, arms wrapped around one another, eyes dripping love and adoration, a song popped into my mind...

And hot tears began to flood my eyes.

My son noticed, and asked gently, "Mom, are you sad?"

Yes, yes I was.

Because I had just finished remarking to someone I hadn't seen in years, how tragic it is that it takes weddings and funerals to get us together.

And because I have learned that life is full of snapshots...fleeting moments like these...

That we need to pay attention to, or they are forever lost.

Gifts we need to embrace and hold on to...

To give us the strength to get through the storms that will inevitably come.

And ultimately, the day we will hear the news that stops our hearts and puts a period on the life of someone we love.

Yesterday I walked into church and shared with my Priest what a great plant sale he had missed that Friday, but how I was sure having a day with his grand-babies more than made up for it.

"I never knew it could be so wonderful!" was his ecstatic reply.

"Yes, and with great love comes great pain," said I, as he knowingly nodded his head.

You see, right before church, I had heard of a tragedy to the EMS community, of which my daughter and many of her friends is a part...