"Faith That Can Move a Mountain" - January 2013

"Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Matt 17-20. Faith as a mustard seed?!? Faith….as a mustard seed."

This is a verse I have heard my entire life. Read my entire life. But…I don't think I have ever really applied that verse to my life as I have now. I mean sometimes I am one to take things very literal, black and white and moving a mountain does not seem to be something I could do no matter how big my faith grew to be. But…there was the problem. I was focusing on having a perfect faith to save me and not focusing on the perfect object of my faith. Sometimes we find ourselves so caught up with the bible studies, the fellowships, the busyness of a "perfect" lifestyle we lose sight of where our eyes should be focused and that is straight ahead centered on that perfect object which is God. It does not mean those things are not good and beneficial to us and our families. They are! They can be! We are encouraged to worship and fellowship with other believers and stay in the Word. I love each and everyone of those and have participated in over a dozen myself but if we are not reminding our flesh of that perfect object that should be the center of our heart's desire than we are doing all those in vain and we are exhausting ourselves in the process. 

Losing Noah Dean was by far the most challenging life experience I have ever, ever ever come upon to say the least (and that even feels like a gross understatement) and some days it can be a daily, hourly, even minute by minute challenge to try and overcome. I think nothing, unless I lose Haleigh Raye, will ever, ever, ever come close to it. And losing her is a daily fear I have. I think, at least twice a day, I pray to God (and been known to beg) "please don't take Haleigh Raye away from me and don't take me away from her and let us live our lives out together." 

As much as I have a yearning and constant ache to be with Noah, I have learned to grow numb to that and remind myself that "Noah is ok" and "Noah doesn't need me." I need him more than he needs me and that truth still hurts. There will be moments that I find myself caught up in a feeling of "I am going on without him, I must not love him if I am smiling or laughing, is he upset that he is not a part of this life, my life, our life anymore." Rational thoughts? No. Normal thoughts? I sure hope so and…I feel they are because they do not last long anymore and I do not allow them to take over my thinking process. It takes such a self discipline to turn those and other thoughts around and focus on the One…the only One would could take better care of Noah than me…the only One who knows me, knows my heart, knows my intentions, knows what I am capable of and knows my mustard seed like faith. And He knows you too. Only He can grow and cultivate that small faith that can move a mountain. 

My mountain is learning to live, for now, without Noah. My mountain is learning to live for a little girl who did not die and needs to see her momma live, not just exist, but to live, laugh and love. My mountain is covered in grief and sin and is as black as black can be. I suspect I will be climbing that mountain everyday for the rest of my life. But while I am walking, while I am panting, while I am trudging ahead, I will keep my focus not on the mountain I am climbing or the steps I am taking and will not let myself bask in the strides I am making but will keep looking straight ahead. 

Many times I have said I am on the "Road to Noah Dean." Well, I am, but he will just be a pit stop for me because at the end of that road, at the top of that washed white as snow mountain is where I will see everything with perfect clarity as 1 Cor 13:12 promises me and I will see face to face the One. The One who took my mustard seed like faith and moved my mountain and He can move your mountain too.

The Supposed To's vs. What Is

“If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to "glorify God and enjoy Him forever." A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her son on her knees, or bathe him, or tell him a story, or plan for his future, or see her grandchild.” 

― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

The past couple of months I feel like, through much prayer, self control and discipline, I have learned to "manage" my grief per say. I've not come upon too many things that make me totally shut down in public. I've not ran away and hid when a memory presents itself.  I've not let myself get too upset when I feel someone or a situation is forgetting Noah...or, on the flip side, someone or something reminds me that he is supposed to be here. 

But, without question, I still mourn for Noah. 

I mourn for what Noah has lost. A life he was supposed to be living. Field trips he should be on, school and church plays he should be singing in and roads he should be running up and down on. I will admit I feel a twinge of jealousy and bitterness arise in me when I see a group of boys out laughing and playing. He's supposed to be there. And then I try to remember what I've been told. What I've learned. What I know. "Noah is ok! Noah is in a better place." His end on earth does not mean the end of him. It is the end of what I knew of Noah. But it wasn't supposed to end this way. At this time. 

Sometimes, however, my grief will take a different turn.  I can get lost in my own grief and so consumed by it I just zone out and will tend to shut even those closest to me out of my world. I am oblivious to what is going on and I find myself in complete mourning, depression and just plain feeling sorry for myself of what has been taken from me and wondering how on earth will I go on without someone I was never supposed to lose in the first place. 

And then, I mourn as a mother. 

I ask myself how did this happen? Why did this happen? What part did I play in this? It wasn't supposed to go this way. I have lost my son and there is nothing I can do to bring him back. All those times he was scared and I gently reassured him, "Noah's it's ok, mommy won't let anyone or anything hurt you." I didn't come through on that and even now I find myself hesitating when I say those words to Haleigh Raye. What if she doubts me, as a mother, and thinks, "but something did hurt my brother." A confidence about my maternal role has been taken away. I can't protect them, I didn't protect him like I thought I could...like I was supposed to. And then another wave hits me and I mourn for all the "supposed to's" that I can't do anymore. 

I can't mother him anymore. The anxiety, the fears, the worries come back like they are all new.

I won't get to watch him grow up.

I won't get to watch him graduate high school. 

I won't get to watch him decide what career he will choose.

I won't get to watch him fall in love, pick out a ring and marry his bride.

But I'm supposed to be able to do all those things and more. It's not fair. I made sure he participated in sports, budgeted for braces and did yearly physicals. I helped him with homework, tried to secure him a good education so he could choose the career field he wanted. I prayed for his future wife and wondered what she was doing at the moments I prayed for her. 

I did that because I was his mom. That is what I was supposed to do. It is what I was called to do. It is what I wanted to do. But it is not what is. 

So, now, what am I supposed to do when he doesn't need me anymore? When the natural instinct and yearning of being a mom to him is there but he is not. 

What's supposed to happen now? 

(I set on this post for a few days trying to find some neat and tidy way to close this post rather than leave it open ended with a question. But I realized I can't because I don't know what is supposed to happen next. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do next. There is no correct way to deal with the turn my life has taken. Anyone that knew me before the loss of Noah knows what a planner I prided myself in being. Part of this struggle, with my own grief, is the fact that so much is unknown and that can scare me more than anything. I've had to give up a control in my life I thought I had, I thought was mine when all along the control was not mine to have. Noah's death has brought me to my knees and made me really stop and think, "do I really believe what I say I believe." I will be honest I've doubted a lot of things and I've had to come face to face with that and deal with it. And there are sometimes it has not been pretty to be confronted with myself in that way. But when the grief has exhausted me, the supposed to's are too much and pain has lost its numbness I can rest that Noah made a decision to put his childlike faith and trust into a God so that, in death, he would be where he was supposed to be.)

What I will remember on this Mother's Day and probably every other day

It's May. It's been 10 months...and...it's almost Mother's Day. Handprints on handmade cards, breakfast in bed and a day off from household chores are just a few of the sweet touches moms might get on this day and rightly so. Mothers may reflect back on their journey of motherhood and what it has all meant to them. And like all good things the day will come...and the day will go and the daily routine of busyness will set in. But...what if the day comes and goes and the daily routine does not return and one is left trying to remember what the daily routine is and worse than that trying to recall what the daily routine even consisted of. 

Even though it's been 10 months I still find myself absentmindedly looking for him. Just a few weeks ago I was picking up Haleigh Raye at school and turned to call for him when I saw a brown haired tanned boy walking out the door with his head down. I even had the "Hey No..." out of my mouth...and then the little boy raised his head. And it hit me as it does every time. Noah is gone. Noah is ok, as I reassure myself constantly,...but I remember Noah is gone. 

For those of you who have kids remember how you kept your children's first pairs of shoes so you can look back and remember how cute and small their little feet were? Well, I still keep his flips flops laying at the front door. At times I will find myself slipping them on to go out to the mailbox. 

They just look good there. They look normal there. I'm not ready to move them and I don't know when or if I ever will be. How ironic the thing (ok, he was all boy, one of the MANY things) I always had to nag him about was picking up his shoes and getting them to his room. And now I am the one who always leaves his shoes out. I will remember him slipping on these shoes and running out the door. I will remember what size his ever so cute little feet were his last days. 

I still keep all the things he used in the mornings to get ready by my bed. I like to look up at them knowing he touched them. 

I laugh now because sometimes he would over indulge in these to the point the smell would make me sick. Now, I'm glad that smell was so strong. I   will remember all those mornings watching him getting ready and the smell that would linger in the car even when he got out. 

I find such peace reading back through the devotion book we were working through that Haleigh Raye was always so intent on us doing together at night. 

I will remember our bedtime routines and things we talked about last. 

And my favorite. This video. I love to watch this video over and over and over and over. It's the best and most lasting Mother's Day present that could have been bestowed upon me and it truly is priceless. I will remember the times we had, the love we shared and most of all I will remember the promise of us being together again one day. 

I love you both too! I love you to heaven and back and I know exactly what that means now. I can't wait to see you all hold hands together again. I can't wait till you both are dancing and singing all our silly songs and then...then no more remembering. It will just be a time of living in the present. 

(This video was made sometime in June probably just 3 weeks before Noah died. They were about to leave for a spur of the moment trip and I was a nervous wreck and I kept having a nagging sensation something was going to happen.But then again, I always worried about something happening to them.  It occurred to me to get their voices and motions on video singing our favorite song. I loved making up silly songs with them. Some stuck some didn't. This one did and we sang it at least once a day the past couple of years. It was a made up cheesy song...but it was our song and we LOVED it.  If you don't video your kids, I urge you to do it now...and do it often.)

To all moms out there, 

"Happy Happy Mother's Day!"