Psalm 56:8 The…

Psalm 56:8 The Message (MSG)

You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn
through the sleepless nights,
Each tear entered in your ledger,
each ache written in your book.

God knows when I can’t sleep at night, and He knows when I cry.  My God also knows when I’m experiencing the joy of my boys and the satisfaction of my job!  I know that He loves me…and he loves my mom too.

Today my mom has been gone from us for an entire year.  Her battle ended.  Her body became whole.  She joined her own mother and my son Baby JJ in heaven!  She longed for that on her birthday, and God gave her that wish two days later.

 Heather and I like to imagine my mom enjoying Diet Pepsi, pizza, gyros, the original Fannie May raisin clusters (before the left Chicago because you know they were never the same….), and chips and dip!  Her esophagus is returned to normal.  No scars, no stricture, no feeding tube, no chemo, no dehydration, no pain, no exhaustion, no more suffering.

Love you Mom!

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Published by

momkirby

I am a mom of 3 -- two boys on earth and one boy in heaven. My mom is/was my best friend and since her death I've not been able to grieve as I know I should. I miss her.....I'm going to try to work through my pain here. Care to join me on my journey?

2 thoughts on “Psalm 56:8 The…”

  1. I love you dear friend… Well written! That is the best way for you, Heather and the boys to remember her. Our beautuful, fun loving memories are what we need to remember… Not all of the pain and suffering as that is no more!

  2. You are choosing joy. You are choosing faith, if only for moments at a time, even by putting Truth and Hope in writing. We are told, “Remember, remember, remember.” We are taught, “Pass the promises down to your children.” You are doing that. You could dismiss your Mom’s tangles, desires, and encounters with God. You aren’t. You aren’t re-writing the pain or loss. No smoothing over, no frosting over mud, no sugar. Just truth telling. Reminding, reminding, reminding ourselves. Thank you, dear friend.

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