Homesick

Today has been a wonderful day. The Lord's day. Normally our day begins in church on Sunday morning, but today we did it different. The youth had a lock-in last night where they drove up to the Texas A&M activity center. We knew those kids would not be fit, once they finished their own youth services, to make it through "big church" without snoring, so instead we came back home. I gathered up my bloodhound and we headed out for a prayer-walk. If I need a listening dog, I take Charlie, our rescued chocolate lab. He was abused and is ever so grateful for the safety and love we provide and I am telling you, that dog is my best listener. But today, I took Fred, the bloodhound, knowing it wasn't him I needed to talk to.

So off we went, Fred with his nose to the ground, and me with my eyes aimed more upwards than ahead. For a while, I just watched Fred. He knows his nose and it doesn't lead him astray. It is so funny how quickly he is on the trail of whatever critter is nearby in the greenbelts we walk on. He is so excited and so calculated that I become somewhat of a burden when I pull back on his leash. I enjoy watching him do what he was created to do.... and he certainly enjoys doing what he was created to do!

As I was walking along, it never takes me long to begin to notice how much I love the greenbelts. It feels like I have slipped away into some far away place on those tree-covered trails! It is breath taking most every time. (I am sure part of that comes from being raised in the panhandle where trees are few and far between!) Today was no different. After watching Fred for a while, I begin to look around, listen to the sounds of nature, and fall in love all over again, with the sunlight pouring through the trees. It simply takes my breath away.

But I was walking a little heavy hearted today. Lots of reasons really, and those that know me best know what some of those things are right now. I don't intend to get lost in this writing, complaining. For everything there is a season and this is a season God has allowed. But to pretend that I just get up doing the happy dance over things that are hard, well, I don't intend to do that. But I won't complain. But you have to know, I was walking with some heavy footing at times today.

The sunlight on the winding paths, drew my eyes upwards to the tops of the trees where the sky peeked through and I begin to talk to God.... out loud. I just had some things to say, so I said them... and I walked. It was funny, when I said something about just needing Him to show me Himself, a butterfly crossed my path. I am sure many would think it coincidence, but my journey with God has shown me time and again, it is NEVER just coincidence, so I felt that butterfly was my personal, tangible hello from my Heavenly Father. It lightened my load with it's presence because it somehow reminded me to keep on keeping on, remembering He is always faithful... in health, in raising kids, in adoption issues, in tragedy that breaks hearts.... He is faithful. So then I just walked. No more talking, just walked. And I found my thoughts begin to drift back to Eathan.

Okay, so in all honesty, everything makes me think of Eathan this time of year. His birthday is coming up. Then, his death date is only a couple of months later, at Thanksgiving time. It was this time of the year when I was having to come to terms with the fact that earthly healing might not be. And no matter how much time passes, I am always drawn back to those beautiful, harsh, painfully wonderful last weeks with our son. And when I remember, I always then wonder.

I am always curious about what he would look like now, were he healthy and had beaten that cruel disease, here on Earth. I think about his personality and how much fun he would have been growing up! And I close my eyes and think about all the joy he left us to hold onto from just his three short years. Man, he was an amazing little boy! He wasn't perfect. I don't have him as some false idol that I worship. But he was truly special, blessed, touched differently.

Todd and I watched a movie the other night called Extraordinary Measures. It is about a family with two children with Pompei disease, which is a form of Muscular Dystrophy where the life expectancies was at one time, less than 9 years of age. The parents the film is about were already pregant with their next child when they found out one of their two older children had the illness and then once the baby was born, he baby was then found to have it as well. The movie is about the family fighting desperately hard to save their children against all odds.

The dad finds this excentric researcher (played by Harrison Ford) who seems to be on the verge of finding a treatment. It isn't a cure, but a treatment that would stop the disease from progressing further. The dad gives us his current career and goes forward helping raise money to fund this doctor in his research. Eventually, others join and there is a huge team fighting for the development of this enzyme treatment. A lot of details occur along the way, but ultimately, the man's two kids are given a trial test and it works. Their lives are saved. They will always be in a wheel chair and have lost the things they have lost along the way with their body functions, but they will not die an untimely death due to the disease.

I found myself okay through the whole movie until the end, then I lost it. I couldn't help but remember how very hard we fought for Eathan, traveling across the country from doctor to doctor and was suddenly, at the end of this movie, overcome with the reality of how wonderful it is that some people are able to find the answers they are looking for to beat diseases for their children. My tears were those of joy for those that are able to find help for their kids, but also tears of the reality that we didn't.

Sometimes I miss him so badly that I am selfish enough to wish he were still here. That night of that movie, was one of those nights. Reality is, he wouldn't come back to this place of pain and suffering for anything. He has HEAVEN for goodness sake! But as his mom, my human side sometimes wishes so badly he would have received earthly healing. But God is greater and wiser and sees what is best for each of us, and for all of us. He knew Eathan was here to serve a great purpose for the Kingdom and his legacy of perfect healing would be used over and over and over to minister to hurting people in so many ways. And He knew I would grow closer to Him and daily remember my deep, deep need for relationship with Christ, never to take forgranted the gift of living and the purpose behind each breath, because of grasping the loss of my son so very young.

So the moments of selfishness arrive often and I just wish I could hug my little boy one more time. I remember the fight and wish just one doctor would have had the surgery we needed. But then close my eyes and remember the sparkle in his eyes in the midst of his deep pain, and it makes my heart leap for joy realizing Eathan was not meant to be here for long. He was ready for Heaven in his young little age of three so much faster than the rest of us that have things to learn. He was a fast learner and an obedient servant far beyond his age. He had a way of ministering to others through little touches and words that could only be a result of his connection of Christ.

I believe he knew Christ so personally before he ever took breath on earth. Like the word says, "I knew you BEFORE you were in your mother's womb". I think Eathan was one that never forgot who he knew BEFORE he was in the womb and was here to do His work and was ready to go as soon as God would take him. He never complained while he was here, while his little body suffered so. But he was ready the second Christ was willing to take him. It was a beautiful thing to see the look on his face the night he leapt to Jesus. The look on his face was truly that of one who had SEEN his Savior and was thrilled beyond our earthly comprehension, to go HOME. I can't linger long in my selfishness of wanting him with me, when I remember and dwell on that sweet expression the night he left us. And I can't wait for my turn. And until then, I will just walk through my days trying to be a smidge of the servant that little boy was, and I will cherish every breath of my own life,my children's lives, my husband's life, my parents lives, and my friends lives.

Tonight was a blogging night. Some of this I have already said. However, on nights like this, I find myself compelled to say it again because that is my gift. I get the honor and privilege of being the story teller! Eathan's life, for as long I as live, will be talked about, remembered, and celebrated for the glory of Christ. Tonight I am homesick.

But my nugget for the day is that Homesick is good. God allows some harsh things to come into our lives, not because He has forgotten us, failed us, or enjoys our pain, but because He knows that those things grow us closer to Him and remind us of our need for our real home with Him, for eternity!

I don't know what you might be enduring right now as you sit and read this. But I have to ask, does it make you homesick for Heaven? Because if you don't have that longing, you must feel so empty. The only way to feel the void is Christ! And if you do have that longing, remember, that is our gift! We are to hold on to that because it is our hope that one day, in a blink of an eye, this life will end and we will be HOME where there is no more sorrow, no more suffering, no more tears.

Hugs to you til Heaven!

Robin