I have something to confess. I wrote about the deer today, because I have something I can't believe I did yesterday and I need to confess, but am afraid to. I have asked God and Andrew for forgiveness, but I still feel like I need to confess to everyone. Notice all the "I"s in this entry so far. That is what happens when God is not in control of my life.
Yesterday was a very sad morning for me. Poor Hendrix--she didn't know what to do during my meltdown. Here I was dusting and suddenly I was wailing. Usually when she is with me, I try to keep control of my emotions and go into the bathroom or bedroom when the tears come. But yesterday, it just wasn't going to happen. So I cried and I cried loudly. I was feeling so sad and now I realize I couldn't control it, because I didn't turn my missing Andrew over to God. And even after I saw how this meltdown affected Hendrix, I still didn't turn it over to God.
That isn't what I want to confess about, although, I probably should (and I guess I have) because I'm afraid I've scarred Hendrix for life--it was bad and it made her as sad as I was. What I want to confess happened later in the afternoon. We went to a neighbor's housewarming party. There were many people there, most of whom we knew. However, I introduced myself to a couple that I didn't know. Come to find out they live on the other end of our pasture, a house or two over to the south. We had a nice conversation and soon I learned that the gentleman was born outside Amity, Oregon. Amity is where Clint and Ashley live, so suddenly we were fast friends. The woman asked how many children we had and I said, "Three." Once the words came out of my mouth, I lost consciouness of what was being said in our conversation. How did I just deny the existence of my son? In my mind I was justifying this horrific action by saying to myself, "I've had a really terrible day and if I say anything about Andrew, I know I will cry...and I just can't do that with all of these people around." What a load of crap!
Please God, please Andrew, forgive me for my weakness. God, forgive me for not turning my sadness over to you. Andrew, forgive me, for once again saying words that I know hurt you. Will I ever learn?
I now believe I know a little bit of what Peter was feeling on the day that he denied knowing Christ. It is a feeling of total disbelief. Did I really just do that? Did I just deny the existence of my son, because I don't want to tell strangers that he is no longer with me and that talking about his death will make me even sadder than I am?
In Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's work on death and grief, she talks about the different stages people go through: shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, resignation, and acceptance. I know the denial that I took part in yesterday wasn't the denial she wrote about. But now, that denial is definitely part of the guilt I feel today. I need to remember the following:
“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.” (Psalm 55:22)
“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28)
“Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)
Please forgive for not turning my sadness and missing Andrew over to you. Thank you for loving me and for loving my entire family, especially our sweet Andrew. Thank you for your grace. Thank you for your mercy. Please forgive me."
Please forgive me for not being strong enough to talk about you yesterday. Please know that I love you and will always be proud to be called your mom. Please forgive me."
And to all of my friends, please pray for me and forgive me for my weaknesses. As you know, I am very proud to be known as...