As Mother’s Day approached, it was obvious it was on the minds of my kids. There’s no doubt it was a frequent topic of conversation in their classrooms; as well it should be. But there’s no avoiding the very real wounds left by the loss of a parent.
We concluded one of our evenings this week in the usual way by reading the Bible. This time, it was about heaven, giving expression to John’s vision as described in Revelation. And Brady, my always sweet boy, began crying. “As soon as I get to heaven, I’m going to cry to see Mommy.” He is so keen to his own feelings. “Every one has a mommy, pretty much, except for me!”
Halle chimed in. “Everyone in my class has a mommy, too, except for me. Now Brady is making me sad.” She wasn’t blaming him, so much as just recognizing her own sadness. She’s sad that she doesn’t really remember Mommy. She wishes she knew her better, but is glad “Mommy looked like me.”
They both are so hopeful for me to find a new mommy. And that’s where it gets tough for me.
When it comes to parenting, one of my go-to verses is in Matthew 7:11, where Jesus is talking about prayer: “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” As I read this, I hear it as a call for me to do like God and give good gifts to my children, especially when they ask. (Emphasis on “good” there, because I won’t just give them anything they ask for. In the same way, God knows more than us, so won’t give us everything we ask for.)
So, when the thing my children are most asking for is a new mommy, and it’s the very thing I want to give them, and it’s a good thing that I can find no “bad” in, it breaks my heart tremendously that it’s the only thing I can’t give them. I have tried my best for nearly 4 years now to give them just that.
So, I’ve decided that we’re going to spend the next 100 days in consistent prayer for a new mommy. And we’re going to wait and see what God decides to do. I’m circling August 17 on my calendar.
And the thing of it is this: there’s more that I’m just beginning to learn now. From long ago — even before Stephanie was officially pronounced dead — I have been giving up my pain to God over losing her. I would say I gave up most of that pain 4 years ago and have given up more as time has ticked on. But now, I’m truly starting to learn the pain of my children’s loss. And so, I am starting to learn how to give that up to God. It’s critical that I don’t drive my kids to find their hope in getting a new mommy, but that they rather find all their hope in God. And may I do the same.
This is beautiful. Sometimes surrendering the feelings of others is harder than surrendering our own feelings. It’s double the pain because we see their pain. I can’t wait to hear how God transforms you and your children over the next 100 days!
Thank you, Brittany! It’s so true about enduring the pain of others. I’m excited to see how God transforms us from the inside out.
Brad,
I lost my father as a young girl on Christmas Eve. I was older than your kids and the pain was almost unbearable, but God in His wisdom, knew time would heal all wounds. I had 6 siblings, most younger than me at the time, and we longed for a father to fill that whole. We pestered my mother into making bad decisions, and we had multiple alcoholic step-fathers to show for it. I commend you for being true to God and waiting on Him. The waiting is so hard, but God knows what’s best. Stay strong for your children, wait upon the Lord and I can’t wait to see you and your children soar on Eagle’s wings!
Thank you for your thoughts and encouragement, Barb. I’m sorry for what you went through growing up. I am determined more than anything else to only marry if God makes it clear to me. I’m convinced that we’re better off without any new woman than with the wrong woman.