Little Big Heart

Tonight has been one of the hardest yet. There is nothing to describe the heart brokenness I have felt. I am truly consumed with deep sadness. I'm not sure if I have felt this alone in over 10 months. My larger-than-life, fun, crazy, always-entertaining, silly, almost 6 year old, came crashing down with heart-wrenching sobs for his daddy.   It was so tender, yet also so painful, especially from this boy who was just made to be funny by nature. His little, big heart was laid out in the most vulnerable way. The magnitude of my reality felt like a boulder.

I'm not exactly sure what triggered it, but most likely because I was reading "Heaven is for Real- the kid's version" to Cooper and Colby before bed. We finished the story. We talked some about what animals might really be in Heaven and how it would be "boss" to have wings. Colby started asking about some other things in the story, when I felt something wet on my shirt. I looked over at Cooper and he looked up at me with the biggest crocodile tears just pouring out of his big brown eyes. It completely caught me off guard, as he had just been talking seconds before and never made a sound to indicate he had started crying (which doesn't come easily for him, by the way…at least not in an emotional way).

What happened over the next hour ripped my heart out. I looked at him and said, "Buddy, what are you crying about?" Then, he started sobbing. Like the kind of sobbing that you can't talk through. The kind that sounds like you may not catch your breath. His lip quivering uncontrollably. The next thing was, "I'm just so sad without my daddy." I held him as tight as I could and started wiping the tears from his face. I finally stopped wiping, because they were a streaming flood, and the wiping was doing nothing but irritating his red, wet cheeks even more. He buried his face into my chest, body shaking with the crying, and would look up at my face every few minutes to make eye contact. He saw my tears and would then cry harder. He said it over and over again, "I just miss my daddy," "I wish my daddy were here and not in Heaven."

What do I do with that? I whispered to myself…"WHY GOD?" I can handle my own grief, loneliness, numbness, shock, anger, or whatever the hell else I feel, but holding my joyful little boy (who I wonder at times if he will even have many memories of his dad) while he cries his heart out??  I don't know if I can handle that. He kept saying, "I can't make it stop, momma…I can't quit, crying."

Tears couldn't be stopped as I held him and told him how I miss his daddy so much too, how proud of him his dad was and is, how we will be okay, how God will carry us, how much I love him, how hard I know this is, and on and on. His big brown eyes would look at me as if to seek something more than all those words.

I didn't have it.

I don't have it for myself.

I wonder sometimes if I ever will.

So, I looked back at him with tear-flooded eyes and nothing else to offer. Knowing full well that I knew exactly what he meant when he said, "I can't make it stop." Colby was still holding me tight on the other side as we listened to Cooper cry out over and over. Then, sweet Colby, with his sad-but-tough-face with dry eyes, reached over to put his arm on Cooper's arm. Every once in a while, he would pat me as well.

We cried and prayed. I hoped that praying would be a way to calm Cooper and transition to bed time, as I knew he was exhausted. He just kept sobbing. Carson then joined us after we went upstairs. It was a moment that I felt such despair, as the reality of it felt crushing. The "why's" of this moment were present in every sense. At the same time, I took a "snapshot" in my head of what I was looking at, because it was the most tender and touching thing I think I have ever witnessed. All three boys laid on Cooper's bed embracing each other as Cooper cried loudly. I had a flashback to the picture that was taken right after Cooper was diagnosed with Cancer. Cooper in the middle, being loved on by his brothers. One of my all-time favorites.

Fast forward almost 6 years…basically, the same picture with an unimaginable trigger. Carson rubbed his head and told him he understood and "we will get through this together," while Colby just continued to hug and pat Cooper on the arm. I don't know if it's any indication, but my mom's heart felt enormous with pride and a real hope that these boys will have a bond like no other…There is no doubt the three of them have been through a lot together over the last 5 years. They are already drawn closer together with their mere circumstances, forcing them to be a support to each other in ways that some adult siblings have not even faced.

They are "tight" (as Carson says), just as their dad would want them to be.

I just sat there looking at them. Touching each one of them. Crying without any words. I think at times you just have to resign to the fact that there are sometimes NO words. NONE.

Sometimes the pain is so deep that only tears can carry out of you what words can't possibly say. 

I will be honest…I am wrestling with God tonight. I want these boys to have their daddy here, and I would happily take his place if I could. His plan makes me angry tonight. His ways make me do a lot questioning. I don't want this story that is so full of hurt. My momma's feathers have been ruffled and I'm instinctively ready to give God a big punch in the face for what He's allowed to happen.

Even still…

I trust you Lord Jesus. Your ways are higher. They are not my ways. What is seen is temporal. Your plans for me are to give me a future and a hope. You are Father to the Fatherless. You are near to the brokenhearted. You will never leave or forsake me.

I am loved by You and I matter to you, just as my boys are and do.


I will praise you in this storm, and I will lift my hands…for you ARE who you are, no matter where I am. Every tear I cry, You hold in your hand. You've never left my side. And though my heart is torn, I will praise you in this storm.

Moreover, I know you have these "little big hearts" in your hands and love them more than I can possibly fathom. Thank you, Lord…even though I say that through my anger and lack of understanding…thank you.