I Hate It!

I hate it! I hate the tears, the anger, the despair! I hate that my children are all suffering from such a tremendous loss. Their hearts are all breaking in various degrees of deterioration. I hate that I can’t slap a Band-Aid on it, plant a kiss on the forehead, and send them on their merry way. As a parent, this is pure hell!

Midnight finds me on my knees, crying out to God to remove the spirits of despair and despondency and to fill my children to the brim with a spirit of peace. My prayers are fervent. My pleas are passionate. I have no other place to turn. I feel helpless! Why can’t I fix this? Why do I feel as if my hands are tied behind my back and I am wrestling a formidable foe, who just happens to be kicking me in the gut at this moment? No matter what I say or do, I cannot make everything all-better. I hate this!

I am frustrated and furious! Yet, I am determined and devoted. I will not let grief win this war! I will not allow this incident to define or destroy our lives. I am going to battle with all of the weapons God has made available to me. And if that means I am on my knees all night, then so be it. Sleep will come in the future. Right now, there is a struggle waging for the souls of my children, and I will not slumber.

How I wish I were on the other side of this! How I wish Woody was here to encourage and face this conflict with me! However, this is a battle I face with God as my ally. And because He is with me, victory will be mine. Yes, I hate it. Nonetheless, God will use this too. Somehow even this will be woven into the tapestry of our lives as a beautiful story of redemption and restoration.

The Hardest Hit

Today I nearly laid my weapons down and walked off the battle field. I was completely defeated. With shoulders slumped, tears blurring my vision, I was ready to raise the white flag and concede to the enemy. Never mind that this week had been a series of victories in which I had taken back battle ground and had revealed the identity of the true enemy. Forget that I had acquired new, more effective weapons which were successfully rendering the enemy powerless. Today I was hit with a nuclear powered blast—biological warfare for which I was unprepared. The wind was knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground with an impact significant enough to register on the Richter scale. However, once I was able to get my bearings and breathe again, feelings of outrage filled my lungs. You see, the enemy hit me where it really hurts; tonight he attacked my kids, and that will always bring out the “mama bear” in me. Satan, the gloves are off! No one messes with my children! When you attack them, you attack my Father, and He has already handed you your head on a platter. You will NOT have the victory here! You will NOT take my children down with you! They belong to the Commander and Creator. AND, they have been placed in my care and I will fight you with my dying breath!

This means war! I have reloaded and refueled. My tears have run dry. My sobs have been soothed. I have strapped on my boots, picked up my shield, and am ready to wield the most deadly sword there is. I am armed and dangerous and I have everything within my arsenal aimed right at you!

No, today I will not give in. Today, and every day that God gives me, I will battle on and eventually stand in the victor’s circle with my King.