8 days in the valley .... then a revelation from God

It took me eight full days surrounding Max's one year death anniversary to fully feel and mourn that day.  Finally, finally I started to come out of that dark valley of hopelessness and tears.  That is the roughest 'first' I have been through.  (And I had *tons* of support!!)  I was extremely depressed about making it a full year without Max.  I don't know what I was expecting, something to happen where the pain just magically lessened because it had been a year?  HA, that was foolish thinking for sure.  

Many grieving parents farther down the road have said to me "it doesn't get easier ... but the pain just gets different".  I would look at them through glazed eyes and fog and wonder what they were talking about.  Now I am starting to "get it" just a little bit.  I don't think anyone ever attaches the words "easy" or "easier" when talking about the death of a child ... it just gets "different".  The pain isn't as searing, as jagged, as physically debilitating.  The desperate *longing* you feel for that child lessens as you start to accept they are in heaven and you truly CAN live without them.  You have made it through several of the "firsts" and proven that you have strength to make it through even when you don't believe that is possible.  You look back and see how far you've come.  You start to laugh without feeling guilty.  You have learned not to take insensitive comments personally.  You start seeing good around you again.  It's an agonizingly slow processes, but from where I sit, it is survivable in spite of how it feels in those early days.  So as I came out of the valley of mourning the one year anniversary, God gave me two things. 

The first was a wonderful dream about Max.  I was aware in the dream that he was dead.  But looking at him, he was very much alive.  I saw him very clearly and he was all grins, waving at me, extremely happy.  I was crying and telling him over and over how much I loved him.  He said "I love you too, I love you too ... what did you do to my hair?", which made me burst out laughing in the dream.  (For those of you who don't know, Max had dyed his hair black for the summer and then was going to grow it back out to his natural sandy brown color for the school year.  He was killed with his hair black, and I told the funeral home that they HAD to do something about it.  I guess it was quite the project getting the black rinsed out of his hair for the viewing ... it never did look "right", but it was much closer than the black !)  Then we continued waving to each other, saying "I love you", with him smiling the whole time.  I woke up feeling very groggy, still very much wanting to be in that dream.  It's amazing how REAL it feels to see him there.  That dream was a gift from God.  I am so grateful for the *continued* reassurance that Max is safe and happy where he is.

The second was something just for me in today's sermon.  What I gleaned wasn't even the *point* of the sermon, but when I heard it, I felt a literal rush ... I knew with 100% certainty the Holy Spirit was confirming that what I had heard was specifically for me.   The preacher was talking about relationships, and how we compromise or give in a relationship to please the other person.  If we truly love the person, it gives us such joy to be able to give the person what they are asking for, rather than demanding our way.   Thinking about my children, it gives me great pleasure to give them something they want.   Suddenly, I got a very interesting revelation from God...  Being my Heavenly Father, I suddenly got a sense of how it must hurt His heart not to be able to give me what I have been longing for ... MAX.  I long for the way things were before he died, to see his beautiful smile, to hear his voice.  How He must grieve, watching me ask for the wrong things out of my great pain and anguish.  I know if one of MY KIDS is in pain, I look for ANY WAY POSSIBLE to relieve that pain.


John 12:24 says:  "unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds".  So asking God for Max to go back to being a "kernel of wheat" is not only physically impossible, but puts God in a position where He cannot give me the desires of my heart.   I had no idea ...


So as I enter the second year of grieving Max's death, I am boldly asking God to show me the right questions to ask of Him ... to find the questions that He can say "yes" to in regards to grieving Max and healing from the pain of Max's death.  Will you join me in praying that for me?   I want to be in a position to receive what God has for me instead of digging in my heels insisting on my way like a willful child.  Thank you for sharing my journey with me.