I love you but . . . nothing good has ever followed those four words, and he was gone. Leaving her with the house payments, car payments and unpaid utility bills. The grass needed mowing and the sink was leaking and he was gone. She looked in the mirror, “THIS IS NOT THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE!” Squaring her shoulders, she wiped the tears from her eyes and walked out to face life.
It’s Alzheimer’s . . . and her life became watching her friend, lover and husband fade away. All the memories to share and no one to share them with. A long process as his body was healthy, but his eyes were vacant. She looked in the mirror and saw the wrinkles that weren’t there yesterday, and faced a future of growing old, alone. “THIS IS NOT THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE!” Wiping the tears from her eyes, she combed her hair and headed to the nursing facility to spend the day.
Here’s your son. . .and the new mother reached up to take him in her arms and see his face for the first time. Ten little fingers, ten little toes, two little eyes and one little nose. All the parts were accounted for. He snuggled into her arms and sighed. Her tears dripped on his head as she was overwhelmed with what lie ahead. I’m sorry but . . and her husband walked out into the arms of another. Looking at her son she thought “THIS IS NOT THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE!” She wrapped the blanket tighter around her precious bundle and knew, despite the struggles, they would make it.
We have to let you go . . .and his mind went blank. Twenty-five years at the company and they were showing him the door with a check for two week’s severance and a handshake. His shoulders slumped as he picked up his briefcase and turned his computer off for the last time. He shuffled out the door, oblivious to everything else. His mind racing as to what the future held. Looking in the rearview mirror to back out he screamed “THIS IS NOT THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE”. And he started home to tell his wife of the postponed plans and the things that might never be.
I’m sorry for your loss . . .and the doctor walked away. She’s not lost, she’s dead. Their little girl is dead. The nurse helped them sit down. They could hear her murmuring something but it wasn’t getting through. Looking at the tiny figure in the bed she screamed “THIS IS NOT THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE! Children are not supposed to die before their parents. How are we supposed to go on?” But no one had an answer for her. She dissolved into her husband’s arms and they wept.
How many times have you screamed that, questioning why something happened? Struggling to find answers where there are none.
"Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker. . . . Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?' . . ."This is what the LORD says— the Holy One of Israel, and its Maker: Concerning things to come, do you question me about my children, or give me orders about the work of my hands? It is I who made the earth and created mankind upon it.” Isaiah 45:9
But God hears those cries, those pleas for answers, and sometimes we get them and sometimes we don’t. We have to trust that at the darkest hour, when we cannot take one more step, he scoops us up in his arms and carries us the distance. He catches our tears in his hands even as he weeps. All we have to do is lean against him and let him carry the burden.
“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11
It’s a son . . and the mother cradled him close. She watched him grow into manhood, studying the ways of his father. She was always beside him, a proud, loving mother. When he became a minister, there she was encouraging him, supporting him as only a mother can. When he was unjustly accused and beaten, she kept silent. Finally, as he hung on the cross, she heard “THIS IS THE WAY IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE!” And she bowed her head and prayed for strength.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16
Peace to you,
Stevie
Copyright Stevie Stevens, 2009, Fort Worth, TX
All Scripture is the New International Version
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