you may want to skip this one... but I pray you don't

Life is moving.  The pace leaves me breathless.  The pictures of the smalls turning big breaks me.  I love my life.  These past couple of years have nearly killed me... nearly.  Instead, I am stronger.  In my weakness He is making me strong.  The years have been hard, but they have been rich.  Each has been blessed in its own way.

Yesterday and today have been a deeper day for remembering the two smalls that I don't get to tend to.  I am thankful that God doesn't just call me to remember... He also whispers to the hearts of the small.

Last night during worship Shorty again crowned her momma, and then she did a new thing.  I shouldn't be surprised by her act for she serves a God that is always stirring and always creating new things.  A God that takes the shattered and makes something wholly beautiful.  Anyway, what she did caused Pastor and I to share a knowing look.  She covered me in Tuckers blanket.

It was if she was saying, "They are worshipping as we worship, they are not as far as they feel."  Even now I swallow hard just thinking about how our loss affects the smalls in our home.   It's not just the parents that grieve hard.  I was blessed by the loving reminder.  It brings my heart great joy that both my girls still sleep with Lincoln and Tucker's blankets... they have since we shared our broken news.  Last night Shorty suggested I sleep with Tuck's so I did.  Crazy how coverings bring comfort.

This morning our young prince reminded as well.  It's important for me to share that Bud was not a part of our worship time last night.  He wasn't present as Shorty shared.  But, he is a remembering one.  And, though he was only two when his brothers died he talks about them regularly.  Sometimes I think he sees things I cannot.  He calls his brothers, "my boys."  My heart aches to see them play together this side of heaven... for Bud to be the loving older brother.  He would so enjoy other little fellas around the house.  This morning his heart was remembering again.  He ran into the kitchen to show me the art he had just created.

I must be honest.  So many people talk to me all day long that most moments I am only half listening to everyone... even my Pastor.  Well, this little prince was so excited I decided to pause.  He almost shouted, "Momma look... look what I did... I did orange, red, and blue... one for me, Lincoln, and Tucker."  Again, I pause.  I can't decide if I am filled with delight, or I have just been kicked in the stomach... both, I think.  But, Bud's joy is so pure that it spills out on me, and it fills my heart.

He is a prince unaware... yet aware of so many things I am not.  He scampers off giggling, and I have a smile on my face.

Reminders of the boys come less often, but they still come.  They are a part of this family.  Their very lives have shaped me into the momma I am today.  They are the reason for my intense hunger.  I owe them so much.  I will fight for them to be remembered.

Every story has value.  No matter how long or how short the story is.  

Above is Prince Warrior Lincoln

And this is Prince Warrior Tucker... Baby Tuck as the smalls call him.

I know these images are hard to view.  They aren't for the faint of heart.  I am sincere when I share I almost passed out and vomited from grief as I looked at them again.  These are my sons.  It would do my heart good to gaze on their broken beauty everyday as I remember the truth... the truth that has forever marked my own story.

They have been made whole... they are...

Healed... ahhh... I long for this myself... for my family... for the body... for the world.

As I journey through my brokenness on the pathway to my own healing I remember a very important call.  The hard invitation to always go back to the hurt... the ache-filled spaces... the stories that have undone me.  A call that says... do not hide from the deep and the dark...  always process...  always remember.  Too often I want to run.  I LONG to forget.  But, I recall in my spirit... truth.   Truth that bestows honor to God and honor to my warrior sons... it is out of death that my beauty flows.  

May I have courage to look into the eyes of Love... may I have strength to look at these pictures often and continue the fight to remember.  Would we all be a people willing to rest in the wrestling.  Would we all accept the death that brings new life.  Praying you would see this as an invitation to search your own hearts and stories and remember.

With abundant tears today,

Pastor's Wife