Life as a bereaved mother has many paradoxes.
I believe this is one of them:
our loss makes us both weaker and stronger.
Stronger because you feel invincible -
if you can survive this, the death of a child,
you can survive anything.
But then there are days when you feel weaker.
Weaker because you are already filled with sadness
and little things seem to bring you over that edge.
Weaker because you easily saddened and burdened
for others who travel the same heartbreaking journey.
Or is that compassion?
I just know there are days I wish I wasn't this weak.
That I could go back to being ignorant and blind
to the suffering of parents all around the world.
And then there are days I am grateful God has opened my eyes
and opened my heart to these people.
That He has allowed me to be part of their journey,
part of their grief.
I feel honored and privileged.
And when I go to the hospital I feel strong.
It's a strength I know only God can give.
So my prayer is this:
God, may I be strong when strength is needed
God, may I be weak when weakness is needed.
And whether I am strong or I am weak
may I bring honor, glory and praise to You.
One day the weak shall dwell with the strong.