It's Not Fair

It's Not Fair

It's not fair I have to live the rest of my life without my child.

It's not fair my children have to live the rest of their lives without their brother.

It's not fair my children have to deal with a broken mother.

It's not fair I have to be the parent who lost a child.

It's not fair I can't have graduations with, and a wedding for, my son.

It's not fair that I will never have grandchildren of my son's.

It's not fair that grief can come unannounced and uninvited at any moment and stay for as long as it wants.

It's not fair that grief still visits two years later.

It's not fair that somehow I get to be the unofficial spokesperson for grief and how to handle it well. (HA. Isn't that a riot?)

It's not fair that I'm a part of a club I didn't want to be a part of and didn't ask to join.

It's not fair.

It's all so damn not fair.

I wish with all my heart that this wasn't true, that my son was still here. I need to know God is here with me. I need to know I'm going to make it. I need to know my kids are going to be o.k. I need to know I can count on God. I don't want to keep asking, “God, why did you do this?” I want to know that faith is real. I want to finish the race. (Though I don't see the finish line.)



I wish it were easier, but it's not. I wish I could do this myself, but I can't. I wish it didn't hurt so bad, but it does. I wish I weren't so weak, but I am.

I need help, and I got it. I got it yesterday when Tim and I went to the One Bright Star Memorial service and sat amongst a hundred other bereaved parents. I got it last week when we participated in the Angel Walk. I got it when we attended GriefShare and Compassionate Friends and met other people who understood. I got it each and every time someone listened when I talked about Matt. I got it every time someone spoke Matt's name. I got it when I woke up every morning of these past 794 days and saw my other children and heard their voices. I got it when God sent me a foreign exchange student named David. I got it every time I heard a song that ministered to my broken heart. I got it every time I read and heard God's word.

He is here alright. He is real. He knows. And though this process is painful and feels unending, His grace is sufficient, His power is made perfect in my weakness, and His strength is abundant. I am not alone. It is as Job 23:10 says, ““But He knows the way I take; when He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold." He is with me.