Just like Ruth

We have a giant Weeping Willow tree in our backyard. I love this tree and enjoy sitting under it in the peaceful summer evenings listening to the gentle breeze flowing through the swinging limbs. The swishing sound from the slim whip like branches feels me with peace that comes from childhood. But after a day and night of high winds blowing through our area, the tree is not my friend. We walked out this bright and sunny morning to a backyard covered in branches and leaves. Though the limbs are slender, they must be picked up before we mow. As I walked large backyard, bent at the waist picking up the tiny sticks, my mind wandered to Ruth. Ruth worked in the brutal heat and glaring sun gleaning the left over wheat to support her widowed mother in law. I thought how hard this must have been. The stooping o for hours on end just to provide a small amount of food. But she was taking care of her loved one. Giving of herself to provide food for them both. We are called to help each other. And even though Ruth had no obligation to Naomi, she worked. She worked to take care of her and God provided that useless left over wheat so they would not starve. He also provided a Kinsman Redeemer. Someone to pay the price and save one from certain destitution and death. Ruth and Naomi, as women, had no means to support themselves after the men in their world died. They needed a savior. I also thought of all Ruth and Naomi had to do to follow the Law just to be in obedience to God. They had to sacrifice, what little they had, follow countless rules and rituals. All of this on top of daily working in the sun just to stave off starvation. I stood up and stretched the aching muscles in my back and thought how thankful I am that God sent Jesus to be my Redeemer. I don't have to follow the old Law of Biblical times and need a kinsman redeemer. Just like Boaz paid the price for Ruth and Naomi, Jesus has paid the price for our salvation. And all we have to do is believe and accept Him. Boaz saved Ruth and Naomi from certain death. Jesus saves us from death by promising us everlasting life. Ruth had a hard life. Sometimes I too feel like life has been so hard. But just as I knew that tomorrow, I would pay the price with aching muscles, I felt peace that I didn't have to pay that price daily. Thankfully, Jesus saw to that. I continued picking up the limbs thanking God that while times have often been hard, the best is yet to come. This is not my home. I am just visiting and some day I will live in a place called Heaven where there will be no more tears, no more sorrow. And no more sore muscles. Thank you Jesus for paying the price.

10 years is too long.

Ten years is really not that long. It passes in a flash. But ten years since I have felt our Jacob's arms hugging me or hear his voice yelling out, "Mom" feels like an eternity. I miss you sweet boy, plain and simple. I thought by now it would hurt less. But it doesn't. It is just as raw as the first day. I remember that a day vividly. I was at Nana's house working on her DVD player. I got the call from Kyler saying something was wrong and you were at the hospital. I screamed something to my mom and took off. When I arrived at the hospital emergency room doors, I threw open the car door and ran in. I left the car running, I didn't care. They front desk clerk saw the wildness in my eyes and opened the door immediately to let me in the doors to the ER rooms. How many times had she seen that look in a momma's eyes? She knew what was coming and needed no words, she let me in. As I ran down the hall I saw the chaplain coming towards me. In slow motion I fell to floor and heard a scream like no other. I knew. I knew my child was dead. The chaplain reached me and I knew the screaming was coming from me. I didn't want him to touch me. I wanted him to walk on past me and tell some other mother she would never hug her son again. She would never feel his arms wrapped around her. She would never again see that precious smile on his face. That child that she gave life to had ended. That day haunts me. It is what I see when I close my eyes. I miss you so much baby boy. 10 years. Double digits. Does that make it real? More final? No, it was very real that day. It was real when I saw you lifeless on that ER bed. I miss you so much baby boy. I try so hard to focus on where you are not on where you aren't. But some days are harder. Would I wish you back? You bet. But would you want to leave? No. You live in a place free from your demons and focused on God 24x7. Your prayer from your prayer journal is real. You are living the life, with no sorrow no pain. The pain is here and someday my son, we will see you again. Your arms will embrace me with the biggest Mom I love you hug. I will hold that face in may hands and weep at how amazing you are. I will sit with you and talk for hours about everything and anything. I will listen to your music and be amazed at your talent and passion. But until then we keep going. Looking forward to that day but knowing our work here is not done. We still have people to feed through Jacob's Cupboard. We still have people to minister to and tell about God's love and grace. But just for today, I will sit and weep. Jacob Selby 9/13/87- 2/20/2010 A Life cut way too short but a life that impacted so many. Love you.

Breath

Have you ever had such a tragic experience it takes your breathe away? Death does this. It is not just an emotional problem but a physical one. Breathing should be natural but having a child die is not natural. So it takes our breath away. We struggle to keep breathing. As I lay in bed this morning, I thought I can do this. I can make it through the days with few tears. I am strong. It has been 10 years. I can do this. Then I took a breath and realized I probably shouldn't put on mascara today. I took a simple breath. You see since Jacob died 10 years ago, I hold my breath a lot. It is one of the side effects of grief. It started the day he died. I did not even have the energy, desire, or ability to breathe on my own. I would be sitting on the couch watching the people as they crowded into our house to help and be a part of our grief. But I would sit, not breathing. I would finally have to gulp air and remember to live. When I work with new moms, I tell them all they have to do it breathe, and that is a lot. I have signs around my house that say, Breathe. They are reminders to keep going. As today approached, I realized I had been holding my breath a lot this month. I think it is a way to just be still and hold in the pain. To stop time. But like this morning, I was fine until I started breathing. Breathing is life and continuing on with the future. I want to breathe, I just have to remind myself to do so. Keep on breathing friends.