i'm too young for this

Jonah: Could you pray for my bear? // Me: That's silly. // Jonah: Mama, pray for my bear, he's sad because Poppy's in heaven and he misses him. // Me: (in prayer for Mr. Bear (aka Jonah), Amen.) // Jonah: I wish we could go to heaven tomorrow and I could play in the floor with Poppy.

Jonah {in the backseat of my car}: I pray for daddy that he won't be sad about Poppy. // Me: Do you pray when we aren't with you? // Jonah: Yes.

Jonah {backseat}: You know, Poppy went to heaven and he is healed. He isn't in pain anymore.

Jonah: I want a jet pack for my birthday so I can fly and see Jesus.

After I tucked Jonah in, I collapsed in a heap in my overstuffed chair last night, exhausted. No tears, just emotional exhaustion. "I'm too young for this," I thought.

Too young to be untrained and shepherding an almost four year old through the loss of his grandfather, supporting my husband as he grieves the loss of his father and all the while unable to wrap my mind around my own grief of a man who was so so dear to me.

Aren't you supposed to deal with these things when your kids are grown or old enough to understand and you and your husband are in your fifties?

But, then I remember. I come from a long line of women who found their strength in the Lord and who endured and survived such times as these and taught me to do the same...with grace.

When I was growing up, I heard many tear stained tales of loss. I heard of my grandmama and aunt being widowed way too young and my mom losing her own father at 19 and the trail of grief all of that left behind. As a little girl looking up at my mom, I probably looked perplexed as the insides of me hurt for those I loved and wondered how they made it through with joy in their hearts.

In the flesh, I'm anxiety ridden and prone to worry, anyone is when they are only looking at things through the lens of the world. So, as a child, when I'd hear stories of grief and hadn't experienced the Lord myself, I couldn't fathom how my heart could withstand such a thing. My mother would say of my grandmama, she didn't worry, she prayed.

She prayed the way her mama taught her to pray and my mama prayed how she taught her how to pray (I'm sure her sisters did the same). Now, I've taught Jonah the same thing, but at four years old, he's not asking me how to get through this grief, he's showing me the way.

He's the one who asks for prayer. He is not living in worry and anxiety. He is grieving, but not without hope. Oh, what a blessing to possess this peace, to rest in His mercy and grace, and at such a young age. 

He's not like I was when I was a child. He's not asking how to experience God. He's just doing it.

I have to stop sometimes and remember, God's timing of our loss is no coincidence. He's not scratching His head wondering what effect this will have on my son. He's chosen this to be apart of Jonah's testimony for His glory and Jonah's growth and maturity. It will be one of his testimonies of God's faithfulness in his life.

Now, to another guy who taught us how to pray.

This morning, I asked Jonah how he was feeling. I told him that it's o.k. to be sad and miss Poppy and he looked at me with those big green eyes and said, "We'll always have pieces of Poppy with us."

That is very true. Sometimes I look around anticipating Poppy to walk in, one hand on his cane and the other around my shoulder to comfort me. At the visitation I kept looking up expecting him to do that for us as he's done so many times before. Isn't that so much like Jesus, The Good Shepherd?

And then, it happened.

As I was reading my Bible...
{a piece of Poppy}

And {another piece of Poppy} as I listened to this album while ironing clothes:

As I read through Job and listened to Blessed Redeemer, I was reminded of the many, many nights at the Cook's dinner table when hand in hand, Poppy would pray for a "hedge of protection" around his "kids and grand kids, his son-in-law, and his daughter-in-law." He would ask for the Father to keep us in His "watch-care."

 And at lunch, I was reminded of him as Zach blessed our lunch they way Poppy taught us to pray. God is good and I know He has us right where He wants us.

"Blessed Redeemer thou art my refuge, under thy watch-care, safe I shall be."

Comments

[Emily Cook]

Thanks, Paige

Sent from my iPhone

[Paige Warmath]

Emily, I love you! I needed this today. I can't wait to let momma read it!

[Barb]

Such a sweet boy you have . . .