Footprints

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My little Pebble’s feet. His sweet little footprints.

 

I remember reading the poem “Footprints” when I was young.  My eyes started welling up with tears, even at the age of nine, reading the part where our Heavenly Father never leaves us, but it’s during our most troubling times that He carries us. ( Footprints, Author Unknown).  When my son passed away on September 25, 2017, I know that God would carry me through, maybe even drag me through, at times. As his year anniversary of being in Heaven is nearing, He has graciously set me down and allowed me to take a few steps on my own. At first, it was just one step, and then I would collapse and fall into the dark pit of darkness of pain, suffering, and agony, but He was always there, ready to lift and carry me on. Slowly, I began to take a few more steps. He would patiently hold my hand or mostly, hold me up and walk alongside me. I felt His whispers, “It’s o.k. my sweet daughter. I am here. I will never leave you. I know it hurts, but we will walk this painful journey together.” I’d collapse again, and He’d be right there, lifting me and carrying me through. My walks with Him are moments of peace and comfort. Everyday, it’s a stroll along the path of life. I speak to Him more calmly now, not like those few months after the accident. I mostly ask Him how I can make Him proud, what is He like, and how can I be more like Him. I used to think I wanted my Heavenly Father to answer my questions, and I would get frustrated when He didn’t respond. I asked the questions of, “Why, What ifs, How come, What is my purpose?” and I never heard Him answer me. I have a prayer group that meets every Wednesday. We finished a study from Priscilla Shirer called The Voice of God. It wasn’t until we completed the 7 week session that I realized that God was answering my questions by letting me know that I just needed to “seek” Him, to get to “know” Him in order for me to know the answers I was begging for before. My mother never had to ask me if I wanted mayo or mustard on my sandwich because she knew I hated mayonnaise. She understood what I liked because she was my mother. She spent time with me. She learned my likes and dislikes. It is the same with our Heavenly Father.  If I get to know Him, I won’t have to ask Him what He needs of me or what He wants me to do. I will already know because I will know Him. I stopped asking those type of questions after I made that realization. My intention has matured into wanting to get to know my Heavenly Father more. I know He loves me. I know He will never leave me. I know He wants the best for me. I know He is a Father full of grace and forgiveness. I know He has a purpose for my life. I know that He intends to guide me and lead me along my earthly journey as long as I allow Him. I know He is the beginning and the end, the Alpha and the Omega. I know He sent His only Son to die for me so I can have eternal life. I BELIEVE and KNOW all of this. Before my son went to Heaven, I knew it. I attended church all my life. I knew what I was told to believe, but I hadn’t truly believed it until I was made to believe it. When my life felt as if it had ended, when my heart was broken and pain and suffering entered my soul, that was when I truly had to believe all that I was taught to believe. It wasn’t until I was down on my knees, humbled to the agony of desperation, lost to the life of this world, did I have to reach deep within my soul the belief that God, His Holy Spirit was present and willing to carry me through the darkest pit of my life. Nothing in this life could’ve of prepared me for the pain that I felt on that horrible day and will continue to feel for the rest of my life, but my faith was put to the test on that day. Was I going to believe and trust in Him? Did I believe He was a God of mercy and of promises? Would I allow Him to lead me to the purpose He needs me to fulfill? I have had many sleepless nights. I have had days where I can’t take another step. I have a memory of my Pebs and it drops me to the floor in despair. I know I’ll have many more of these moments for the rest of my earthly life. But I also know and believe that He was there on that day, September 25, 2017. A day that was filled of happiness, laughter, and love until 5:17 P.M. He was there to welcome my baby boy into Heaven. He was there with open arms, welcoming my Pebs home. I know my God was there with me when I fell down to my knees in that hospital room, and heard the doctors say, “I’m sorry ma’am. We’ve tried nine times to revive him. Want us to try again?” “Yes, please, ” I responded in shock, not believing this was real. “On the tenth time, it will work.” I held his little, cold foot. I yelled at God in that hospital room, and yet, I know He was shedding tears and crying right there, kneeling besides me. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. He’s gone.” My Father knew those words would come before they were spoken, but I believe He still screamed right next to me as I yelled in torment. He felt every bit of torturous pain, and I know that’s when He first placed me in His arms.  I don’t know how I ever managed to walk out of that room except that it was Him who carried me out. The waiting room was filled with our family and friends who had rushed to be by our side when they first heard the news. Every single person in that room was crying. Not one person had a dry cheek, not one. I know my God sent the Holy Spirit to that hospital room and to our support system from that day forward. That was part of Him carrying us through. Our family, friends, friends of friends, all came together to help get us through the most awful thing a parent could ever go through. That was the beginning of my God placing me in His loving arms. Like I said earlier, He has put me down a couple of times throughout this journey. I have taken a few steps on my own, but I never have let go of His hand. When it seems as if I am going to fall again, He is there, reminding me that He has a hold of me. When I’m in despair, lost, needing to hear my baby boy’s footsteps or voice, He is there to remind me, I will soon be with him again. I know my journey will always be painful. I know that on this earth, my trials and tribulations are yet to come. I know that from September 25, 2017 and until I die, I will cry every single day. Every. Single. Day. I’m perfectly content with this because pain and tears are temporary, but my walk with God is eternal, and that is something to be blessed about now until forever. Let God carry you through.

“Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ.”
                                                                                                                                                          -Romans 10:17

 

“God has taught my heart to sing again, and tucked away in the minor key, I hear His promise of all that is yet to come.”
                                                                                                                    Through The Eyes of A Lion, Levi Lusko

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