Day 28…the home run….
This is my interpretation of writing a poem about questions….
“You keep track of all my sorrows
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.”
I remember the day my son died; it’s like a painful groove inside me,
it’s not something I will ever forget.
I think my heart stopped that day.
The world became very still, though I can recall the sun shining.
I lay on my bedroom floor hidden behind the bed and blocking my ears.
I wanted to shut the world out in that moment, my body was numb.
I never asked God why my son was taken, it’s a strange thing.
It’s as though my soul knew and my body was trying to catch up.
That day I told God that I didn’t hate him, I repeated it over and over again,
like a mantra.
Perhaps I was afraid of falling into an abyss, you know that place of bitterness
that is hard to return from.
Since then I feel as though I’ve been guided by something/someone
greater than myself, I have been shown great mercy and given light.
Somehow I still don’t question God, it was as though I was prepared for this time.
I have learned so much since my son changed worlds.
I’ve delved into stories about near death experiences, and read up on soul plans.
There is so much peace to be found in knowing that love has directed my course.
We as humans often question the suffering of the world, it breaks our hearts every day.
Some days I wake up crying because my son is not physically present
and for a time I let the pain engulf me, but I always hear his voice through the tears
telling me that he is still with me.
He wouldn’t want me to be sad for too long but tears and sadness are part of my healing.
I had a vision of him once..
“he was at the end of a small creek with large jar collecting water,
he had flowers in his hair. He told me that the jar was filled with tears.
He threw some of the tears up in the air and they became glistening crystals of light.
From a distance I could see him bending down to collect the tears.
He communicated to me that his job was to collect tears, because he hadn’t taken my tears seriously while he was here on earth and God was teaching him the preciousness of tears.
After he collected them, he had to gaze into each one of them and see their power and beauty and all the sadness and joy of the world that made up the oceans of Heaven.
He said that they were more beautiful than he had ever known and he began to realize how precious tears were, God’s treasury.”
These are some of the reasons why I don’t question God about my son’s death?
He is in a place beyond all imagination!
Thank you for reading, these stories are the reason my life is bearable…