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Thanksgiving

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Two years ago my family was on its way to Thanksgiving dinner.   The one year mark of Azaiah’s death was approaching. We had just attended the funeral of a young Christian in Pennsylvania. I as traveling with my six children, one of whom was less than a month old.

My anxiety was debilitating.

I didn’t want to be in a room with anyone else.

I just wanted to be alone in my grief. I only wanted my sorrow as my companion.

But my Father planned otherwise. He submerged me in Thanksgiving, quite literally. Learning to be thankful again saved me.

I started being thankful for my surviving children.

Days after Azaiah died I felt suspended between heaven and earth. I could hear and see all that was happening around me but I felt more like a spectator than a participant of my life. Then I had a moment where God placed my feet back on the ground. He simply said, “You are not invited yet.”

The truth of the situation was that only one of my children was saved. The rest needed a mother on earth who wasn’t just existing but one who was engaged. The rest of my children didn’t deserve to lose a brother and a mother.

I needed to jump back in the game. I needed to live gratitude for my children.

I started recognizing God’s relentless presence.

We stayed at a hotel somewhere near Washington, PA. All the family was asleep except for me, a toddler and a baby.  I was tormented with sleeplessness. The walls were closing in. I was angry with the situation but more, I was angry with my life.

I didn’t want it to be this way I didn’t want to be this way. 

That night I learned that the Most High doesn’t just dwell in majestic palaces. He dwells in tumultuous hotel rooms with grief-stricken women.

I absorb the enormity of salvation.

I didn’t have my one year old son with me on that Thanksgiving but my son had Jesus. As great as I think I am, I am no Jesus. My son wasn’t just safe, he was saved.

So here I sit in the same place as I did that Thanksgiving two years ago, thankful. I am thankful for the mission to raise children. I am thankful for the tight grip of the Lord. I am thankful I have tasted his salvation.

“I will go to him one day, but he cannot return to me.” -David
Nov 26, 2015Serena
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Serena
7 years ago Death and Dying, Depression, Grief, Uncategorizedgratitude, grief, thanksgiving427
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