It’s Been 4 Years . . . .

Miss boys 2“You might be but one drop in a bigger ocean, but even that drop causes ripples which affect every other drop. ~ Sue Krebs

Today marks the 4-year anniversary of the accident that took the lives of my children and changed my life forever. Anniversary . . . . . . it really does not seem like the right word to use. To me an anniversary indicates a happy event, an event worth celebrating. Today is not about celebrating, it is about remembering.

It has been 4 years since I have seen my children. There are so many things I have missed in those 4 years.

I have missed having mountains of laundry to do.

I have missed breaking up fights.

I have missed navigating the messy bedroom just to tuck them in and say goodnight.

I have missed stepping on Legos. Yes . . . I do miss this!

I have missed the incessant questions.

I have missed repeating myself because they were not listening the first 40 times.

I have missed the bickering.

I have missed the back talk.

I have missed the “can’t keep it clean” house.

I have missed the creativity.

I have missed watching kid movies and tv shows.

I have missed reading stories at bedtime.

I have missed the laughter.

I have missed the joking and goofiness.

I have missed the craziness that having boys brings into your life.

I have missed their hugs.

I have missed touching them and having them touch me.

I have missed my boys.

The other day a friend asked, “If you could ask God one question what would it be?”

My answer to that question is simple. I would ask God to allow me to see the far reaching effect my life has had on other people. I want to know that what I am going through has meaning. I want to know that someone is living a better life because of what I have been asked to deal with.

I have friends tell me how their friends have been affected by my story. These are people I don’t know. I love hearing these stories, but I want to know more. I want to see the whole story of my life, the part that only God can see. I would love to see the part of my life that God can see, that kept him from stopping the accident from happening. I want to know and understand why I have to live the rest of my life without my boys. I want to see what God can see . . . . the ripple effect.

I know I will probably never be privy to this information this side of Heaven. But I sure hope that God allows me to see the ripple effect of my life when I get Home.


Did Mary Grieve?

I had planned on posting a New Year type post this week. But alas life has gotten in the way.

As many of you know I am currently in graduate school working toward a Masters in Counseling. My hope is upon completing school I will be able to help others like me, who’ve watched their life fall apart. As part of my school’s program I have to pass an oral exam to graduate. I have to present a client case study to a panel of professors, and then defend my case study. This is a very involved process, and my deadline is rapidly approaching. As a result, throughout the month of January and most of February, I will be consumed with preparing my case study and doing the appropriate research. I would appreciate your prayers during this time.

To help relieve some of my stress and anxiety, I won’t be posting on the blog as much as I had intended during this time. As soon as my oral exam is over, I have many plans for this blog. So stick around because exciting things are coming.

So instead of writing the New Years post I’d planned on, I thought I would share something I posted on my photography blog in January of 2013. If you are interested in my photography you can check it out here.

Without further ado, I’d like to share a side of Mary, the mother of Jesus, that I’ve wondered about.

Originally posted January 2, 2013 on Teresa Hunt Photography

A few weeks ago I was listening to one of my favorite Christmas CD’s. A song titled “Still Her Little Child” came on. As I listened to the song I realized something . . . Mary, like myself and so many mothers I know, was a grieving mother. She watched her oldest son be tortured and put to death in the most horrific fashion. She had to bury her baby boy. For 3 horrible days she knew the unimaginable grief of loosing a child.

But Mary received a gift all grieving mothers can only dream of . . . . she got to see her son again. A mere 3 days after being buried, Jesus came back from the dead. What overwhelming joy and relief Mary must have felt.

However, several days later Mary lost her son again when he ascended into Heaven. And here is where I’d like to pose a question for your contemplation. Did Mary still grieve the loss of her son after he ascended to heaven? I think she might have. For even though she was able to see her son again, he was still gone. Even though she was able to see Jesus in his full glory, he was still gone. Never again in her earthly life would she be able to talk to, touch, hug or hear her son’s voice. In the end that’s all we grieving mothers want to do. We want to hold our children, to talk to them, to hear their voice, to smell their presence, to touch them and to have them touch us. We don’t cry and grieve for our children. We cry and grieve for the LOSS of our children . . . for what we no longer have. And that is why I think Mary grieved for her son until she joined him.

My thoughts on Mary, the mother of Jesus, being a grieving mother.