It’s hard to hear Him when my own emotions are so loud right now. I wake up in the night, and think of my daily life without them near, and it’s like God has asked me to continue living without the sunshine, and I cry and inwardly groan, “not fair, not fair.”
Their mama, my one blond blue-eyed baby sandwiched between her two brown-eyed sisters, told me she was going to be a missionary to Africa when she was five years old. She never waivered. She took her first missions trip to Africa while still in high school. She went to Bible college clear across the country. I had time to let go. I’ve been letting go since she was five.
But the grandbabies…I’m kind of mad at God about them. It was a long, long, wait for us to have grandbabies. Then, He brought this one into our lives, with her smile that lights up my world, and she was the one who filled the empty place inside that hadn’t had a little one to love since my own babies were small.
Then a grandson! A boy in my life! Me, who raised three daughters, finally had a little boy to love. What a totally fascinating thing that has been. He turns an ordinary walk in the neighborhood into an adventure. When I see him again, will he be too old, too cool, to hold his nana’s hand like he does now?
I let go, visualizing laying them on the altar, during Sunday morning worship. Monday, I untie them, take them down, and clutch them to my heart again. “Too hard! Too, too hard!” I tell God. Who is this God who gives you a promise, and then asks you to give it back to Him? “No backsies, God…not fair, not fair.”
I go on my walk and the song on the IPOD says, “joy is found in the letting go”, and I wonder how, and I wonder when. “Right now, God. I need it right now.”
I tell Him, “You aren’t going to just need bottles to collect the tears I’ve cried over this, You are going to need buckets!” and through the tears, I have to grin with Him at the thought of the shelf marked with my name, lined with buckets of my tears. I cry easily. Sad tears, happy tears.
And even though I’m still kind of mad, really mad, I have no where else to go, but to the One I’m mad at. “If I lay them on the altar, and leave them, promise me there will be a ram in the thicket God…promise? (Genesis 22:13) You’ll be my Ram in the Thicket, Jesus…promise? No backsies, God…no backsies.”