Tears of a Different Kind

 I know that the bottle God has set aside for my tears is now overflowing.  I have never before cried so many tears in my forty -five years of life.   About two years ago, I was doing some deep thinking one Sunday afternoon over a cup of coffee while sitting in my bed, and I realized that I had not had a good, hard cry in several years.  I was not crying that afternoon or even needing to cry.  It was just an observation I was making about how good my life was with Michael.  We had our share of trials with various things…. Health, financial strain, or a lack of communication, but our faith, our relationship with God and with each other was so strong that, most times, we made it through those periods without tears and with a boldness, strength and confidence that the Lord would see us through.  God always came through for us.  For everything there is a season.  This seems to be my season of weeping.  Most of my tears have been in grief, wrenching pain over the loss of my beautiful husband that God chose for me and gave me for 24 special years.  Tears of missing his presence, his sounds, and his gusto for life.  Some tears are shed in the quiet presence of sheer loneliness.  Some tears are for my children’s loss of their loving and fun father.  Some tears are shed from questions to God to help clarify this journey through which He is guiding me.  As of late, I am shedding a tear of a different kind.  They are tears of feeling overwhelmed with the weightiness of being a parent. 

This is a good sign, really.  Some parents never feel the weight and don’t put enough prayer, planning, and discipline to their parenting decisions.  It all matters.  Daily decisions matter.  Praying for our children matters.  Who they spend their time with matters.  Where they go to school matters.  How they spend their free time matters.  Leading them to the right occupation matters.  Teaching them communication skills matters.  Setting an example for them matters.  Showing them how to forgive matters.  Listening to them matters.  Understanding them matters.  All of these have gained weight these past three and a half months as I have been forced into carrying this responsibility without Michael.  I have always been so passionate about my role as a parent, taking every decision to the Lord and to Michael for discussion.  Raising children to glorify God in their lives is the most important job God has given me.  That truth remains the same, even without Michael here to share that passion and commission given to us by God.

If I no longer felt that weight, it would be a bad sign that I was giving up on life.  I have no intention on giving up.  I am “fighting the good fight of faith. “ I understand that quote from Paul better now.  It is a fight and we must battle for it daily.  There is pain and the shedding of tears in most every fight.  I am only pulling through this battle because of my faith.   I don’t know how people can successfully do this, lose a spouse or parent or raise children, without a faith in Jesus Christ standing out before them as their shield in battle.  The battle has seemed to have reached a crucial point in the last couple of days.  I have been encouraged by the friends and family that God has put into my life for Him to use to assist me in this fight.  I have two sweet friends by the name of Beth, Beth T. and Beth W.  Beth W. has taken me to the beach for a getaway alone with her to rest and get away from all of the decisions, business, and life routine that have been pulling on me.  This is my first time away from the children since Michael died.  She is pampering me, listening to me, speaking into my life, crying with me, and encouraging me.  My sister Jerri is available for my girls, loving on them, meeting and recognizing their needs and having them overnight in her home this week.  Beth T. has complete charge of Michael Anthony and is available for any of the extra needs my girls might have.  She came to my rescue when Michael Anthony called me Sunday night after his first afternoon at Boy Scout camp in tears saying he could not do the whole week without his dad there with him, as he had been every other summer.  I prayed him to sleep over the phone and he was brought back to Jackson on Monday.  Beth T. rose up and took him under her wings, since I am six hours away from home.  As I was being thankful for her amazing friendship, I pulled out some of the scriptures that she brought to me on index cards almost daily the first month after Michael’s death.  I knew there was one in the stack that I needed right now.  I read this one and was reminded me that God really is with me, fighting for me.

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.    Isaiah 43:2-3

Tears are much easier to handle when you know someone is taking care of you.  The tears and pain are hard no matter what.  God doesn’t always take them away, but he carries me through the circumstances… and allows a place to catch my tears.