by Todd Brooks
My face is flush; tears are so close but won't flow. My chest is bound tight, thinking of you over the 18 years of your life.
The family gathered round this morning, mostly for the kids. I didn't see you there; we didn't see you there. Not a word was said, but what could be said? There is a hole in our hearts... there is a hole in my heart. I miss you son.
I feel so numb. I knew this day would be hard, but the anguish rushes certain. These moments will pass, thankfully, with each episode the Lord allows; He'll need to carry me fewer steps each time.
Your first birthday since, first Thanksgiving since, and now the first Christmas since - all who know, say the second of each will be easier.
But, what of the instant memories of recall, that seem to drop from the sky, and cause my heart to stop, weigh heavy and take me into deafening silence. Time just stops... and later, it starts again. It's not just one fleeting memory to withstand, but one memory inescapably connecting 18 years in one instant flash, so powerfully overwhelming, so indescribable. But for my Lord carrying me in these instances, I would be undone.
My faith in Jesus is not broken. I just hurt sometimes; this Christmas day being one of those times. I will not forsake praising the Lord all of my days. To know that Carson's safe - when I finally remember that he's safe, I can breath again.
Thank you, Jesus, for your blessed assurance. Amen.