I haven't been a good blogger, I know. So much occupies my day and mind with all the organizing I am trying to get done. Blog posts pop into my head but by the time I can sit down and write my mind is tired and numb.
In all my organizing I have found so many of my journals with random posts from different points in my life. I came across this entry and thought I would share it here. I don't even know when it was written but it shows the heart of someone who is broken and desparate for comfort. I don't remember writing it but I remember feeling this way. Maybe someone you know, or go to church with, feels this way. Maybe they need you today.
I am the Mother
I am the mother of a child with special needs.
I've often wondered why we use the word "special".
I don't feel like our situation is "special".
Lonely... most definitely yes.
But "special"... no, not very.
Don't get me wrong. I love my child. I fight for her. I adore her. I would die for her.
SHE is special.
Her disability is NOT.
I am her mother. I need help. I need hope.
Church, where are you?
Will YOU love my child? Love Me?
Will you be the hands of Christ and help me and my child?
Can you offer us some hope?
Are we SPECIAL to you?
I am the mother who has lost a child.
"Lost". I hate that word.
I haven't lost my child. I know exactly where she is.
She is in the ground. She is gone.
I can't see her... touch her... hear her... hold her.
She isn't lost. She is gone.
But I am lost. Lost in the grief.. the sadness... the numbness.
Part of me has been cut off and I am left with a gaping hole.
Nothing seems to fill it.
Church, I need you to step up and comfort me.
I need you to put your arms around me.
Can you offer me some hope that she isn't lost?
Can you show me some hope that there is something more?
I am the mother.
And I am waiting.
Please don't let me down.