Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.
I have been thinking about the comfort of parents this morning.
My friend died. My lifelong friend, before whose friendship I remember very little. 3 and a half decades. I remember her sweetness and comfort and encouragement through all the bumps of growing up, asthma, church camp, fallen leaders, our weddings, I could write pages of memories. She was 3 years older than me. And she is gone.
Tragically. Suddenly. Wrongfully gone.
My heart is ripped.
And today I go to join the other mourners and to be with my parents, whose sole thought, I am sure, is to comfort me, their daughter.
And I am aware that my Father is longing and waiting to comfort me as well. To hold me close.
My second youngest came into my room this morning and climbed up into my lap and I immediately knew, as mamas do, that he had a fever. And if my mama sense couldn't feel the hotness with my face and arms and hands, my experience would have told me that he didn't feel well based on how long and still he was on my lap. He's a very busy 2 year old and he has a lot to do today. He has to flood the bathroom, dump the dog's water into his food, torment his 'twin', take his diaper off and bring it to me . . . a very, very busy boy. He doesn't have time to just sit and 'uggle' his mommy.
Except when he has a fever. Or is sick. Or is hurting.
I don't want my son to be sick. But I love holding him when he is. I don't want him to be hurt. But I cherish the moments he is still enough for me to comfort him.
Children remember that comfort with their hearts beyond their understanding long into adulthood. Don't we all want our mommies when we're sick?
My parents are not glad for the grief. But they will be glad to have me near. I don't normally just leave my 13 kids with their daddy and drive across 2 states to be with my mom and dad alone for a couple days. They wouldn't wish this, but they will be glad to have me near.
My Father does not wish pain in my life. He doesn't desire my tears. But He longs to comfort me, to hold me near, to build in my heart the foundation of trust that He will never leave me, will always care for me, that He has everything I need, that He waits on high to show compassion on me.
Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.
2 comments:
When you write and what you write helps me. This is so difficult. I'm sorry. But today, by your sharing, I'm blessed to remember that its ok to sit still in my Father's lap when things are a little upside down.
I read your entries and there us so much depth. They envoke my emotions, my physical body (right now my heart is racing and nose glaring because if i sit and dwell on this too long i will cry) LOVE the way you write
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