Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Sweet William

Today marks 1 year.  12 months.  It might as well have been 12 minutes.  Or 12 years.  Time no longer exists for me.  It just runs together.

I often think of how William spent his life.  Full of joy.  Thankful in all things.  He was always so happy.  And he LOVED people!  He found the good in everything.  This video warms my heart because it was so typical of him...



I see posts on what we wish others knew about child loss and all I can think is...nothing.  I wish no one knew the deep, anguishing pain from the unnatural act of burying a child.  It simply should not be part of anyone's story.

My boy has been gone from my arms for a year.  It hardly seems possible.  This year has seen a monumental amount of change for us.  None of us are the people we were before William's passing.  We are trying to hold on to the good that he brought out in us while fighting desperately to not give in to the grief.  It's a new struggle every day...sometimes every moment.

A friend once told me that losing a child changes you completely and permanently.  A person never gets over it, but changes with the grief.  Of course we do.  But I've seen the destruction grief can bring.  Too many friends have lost children.  Some have let the grief draw them closer to the Lord, softening their heart and making them more tender to those who are hurting.  Some have changed in ways that are painful to watch, letting bitterness overtake them and change their relationship with God.  It is constantly in the depths of my mind...how am I grieving? Am I honoring Him?  Am I letting grief and sadness overtake me?  Am I allowing Him to comfort me?

The day William died, a dear friend brought this up.  I don't remember his exact words, but I vividly remember his message.  He expressed his confidence that I would grieve in a way that is honoring to the Lord.  Those words have been a grounding point for me this year, a continual reminder that this life is about more than me or my grief.  A true friend, who has known me for a good number of years, expressing encouragement before I even knew I would need it.  I have been tempted to run away over this year.  But where would I run?  I can only go into HIS arms; the One who made me and loves me. The One who gave me William.  The One who took William back home...

Can I honor the Lord in the peaks AND the valleys?  Can I honor Him in the very pit of despair and agony?  It is a battle that He sees me through, day by day, and I know that the war is His.  He WILL have the victory.  I don't always make the battle pretty and sometimes it even appears that I'm losing, but He always has it in His control.

I miss him.  I know I always will.  But I also know that William had a purpose in this life and that his purpose was fulfilled the day God took him home.  I will always be sorry that I had him for such a short time.  But I will always be grateful that God gave me 8 1/2 beautiful, wonderful years with him.

Sunday was difficult.  All day I thought of that Sunday, one year ago, when William's little body was in my arms and he passed into eternity.   It is easy to identify William's death more with Sunday than the actual date and it was probably one of the hardest days I've faced all year.

When William was on life support in 2014, a friend sent me this song.  After a year of songs, it's the last one I'll post.  It was fitting then.  It is fitting now. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.