Sitting in the hallway because they made me sit down.
Shock is setting in.
I know it’s taking too long.
Desperate to run to the ambulance with him, but they aren’t coming out of the room with him.
The secretary reminds me to breathe.
Dread fills my soul.
My heart is sinking.
I look up and beg God, “Please.”
My heart is pleading for his life.
So many times in books and movies we see people bargaining with God. If He’ll just give them this one thing, they’ll follow Him all their days, they’ll give Him anything.
I don’t feel we should bargain with God, but it crosses my mind.
I can’t offer something that I may not be able to follow through with perfectly because this is too utterly important.
I know I will fail my promise to God at some point.
I have nothing to offer Him that is equal to my baby’s life.
I have absolutely nothing. I know He knows this.
I just say, “Please.”
I have never felt so desperate. I have never felt so helpless. I have never felt so unworthy.
This was my prayer one month and one day after I lost my son:
As I was driving in the car, I think to myself, there will always be a hole in my heart, because of the loss of my son.
Then comes the thought, let God fill the hole.
But, I know I’m not ready to hand over the hurt, grief, and sorrow, so I pray that I will be able to allow God to fill the void where darkness lies.
I’m not ready to allow God to fill the hole because I don’t want to diminish the love I have for Silas by giving up the pain I feel in his absence.
But, this void truly is darkness because it is filled with grief, sorrow, and hurt–wounds caused by this great loss. These wounds must be felt, yet be given the opportunity to heal.
I begin to understand that my love for Silas is not in the dark hole in my heart; my love for him lies in the bright places of my heart. The beauty of my love for my son is greater and more powerful than the hurt. The love between mother and child spans the distance that now separates us.
I ponder…if I can allow God to fill this dark hole in my heart, He will make my heart WHOLE again, and Silas will always be there.
I am missing my baby.
I am carrying Silas in my heart.
I am allowing the love to heal my heart.