It is especially something they do not want when they are hurting.
If they have fallen down and scratched their knee, or have bumped their head on the edge of a counter, or sometimes when they are sad and they can't tell me why they will run off by themselves to a corner or will scream loudly and writhe on the ground.
But to be sure they do not want Mommy to pick them up and hold them, to comfort them and to remind them I will always be right there no matter what. They do not want my comfort.
They simply can't stand it.
And that breaks my heart.
I remember all the times my mother's arms and soft voice healed me more than any bandage ever could. How when I was hurting her name was the first I would always cry out. It was the loss of that when she died that grieves me still today. That enormous gulf of separation.
When my mom died my relationship with Jesus was what buffered me from passing over from grief into mourning. The promise of heaven and of reunion was what I clung to.
And for a while, that was enough.
Somewhere along the way and in the years since her death I lost that tight grip I once had on my relationship with God. It was a gradual chipping away of my faith. It was around the time that my second son, Noah, was diagnosed with severe autism that I could feel the internal crumbling of God's foundation in my life.
To be clear it was not God who was backing away...it was me. I was holding Him at a distance and filling myself with things of this world that could not ever heal the pain I felt inside.
These "things": a return to overeating, drinking more than I should, backing away from friendships and opportunities were not because I felt anger at God for the death of my mom or my two sons' diagnoses. It was so much worse.
It was numbness and a consistent deadening of the pain and the hurt I felt.
And somewhere along the way I realized that numb was a whole lot easier to stomach than hurt.
And then I heard this song.
I was driving in my car and I had to pull over.
I wept.
I prayed.
and I asked for forgiveness and for renewal.
This song helped me to see that my running from God was just as hurtful to Him as my boy's inability to allow me to comfort them was hurting me.
The only difference was that I had a clear choice. But time and time again I chose poorly.
I chose the here and now over the tried and true.
The fleeting over the eternal.
And today I am here to say that I am done with that. I am done with numb.
I am kicking it to the curb and I am taking back the best parts of me that include sometimes feeling sad. The parts that accept the fact that my mom is gone. The parts that feel fear when I consider my boys' future and my the part where I worry that I may not be strong enough to care for them as long as I need to.
I don't really know where this path will lead me. But I have some pretty clear ideas on how to start walking it and I hope you will join me on this journey.
You don't have to be religious or even somewhat spiritual. You just need to be fed up with the rut you've found yourself in and ready to make a change.
After all, when you hit rock bottom there is only 2 directions you can go....sideways or up!
And personally my friends, I'm aiming for the moon.
