Mourning the Dream

This morning I thought about how sometimes mourning the dream is more difficult than mourning an actual person. Because, the truth of the matter is that Warner is healed, whole, and experiencing Jesus in full. But, I’m the one left behind with our little family that has to move forward without his presence.

Don’t we all spend a lot of our sorrowful days mourning a dream that failed? My heart hurts because my body failed and Warner went to be with Jesus much earlier than my dreams ever wished. Even just days before he died, I would have told you with full confidence that the Lord was going to allow Warner to be born full-term and we would all be a happy family come the summer.

But, that didn’t happen.

Instead, I held him while he died.

How do you move forward when mourning a dream? Life was supposed to be much different than it is today. I wasn’t supposed to be concerned with headstones or perfect flowers for an itty bitty grave. I was supposed to be trying to figure out how to bundle up three munchkins for the snow today.

Two little girls and a little boy. Two little princesses for Mommy and one little pirate for Daddy. Filling out our car and house with some baby blue. Teaching him about Jesus. Watching him grow up to be a man that loves his Mama, but not too much 😉 Dancing with him at his wedding one day and looking back on all the days of bed rest that were more than worth it for just this moment.

But, all of those things were just a dream. A dream that isn’t happening now. A dream that was shattered by the brokenness of this world. A dream that wasn’t torn apart by a greedy God, but instead by the frailty of life and the sin that has ravaged everything.

“All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing” -Ecclesiastes 1:8

But, there was a day when light broke through. When God became man and nothing would ever be the same.

Broken dreams? A broken heart? Broken hope? Grabbing at any shred of light?

He is come.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” -Matthew 11:28, 29

I don’t have any single thing in my life figured out. Nothing. I don’t have the grief thing figured out, how to be a Godly woman, wife, mother, how to be a good cook, how to dress well… None of it. Not a thing. But, the only thing I know is that Jesus meant every single word in Scripture.

He means it, He’s not kidding around

“Jennifer, come to Me…”

Everything is full of weariness to me, just like Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes. There were (and are) days my brain has spun in circles over the broken dreams, the shattered life I held for such a brief time

“You are laboring and heavy laden, but I am the only One that can give you the rest you need…”

I don’t want Warner’s life, my broken hopes and dreams to miss it. To miss the refinement to be had, the lessons to learn

“Follow Me, take Me on, learn from Me, Jennifer…”

My heart aches, it hurts, it longs for the dream that was ripped away from me. It longs to hold Warner just one more time. I want to say the things I’ve thought a million times since that I would have said

“I know you hurt and I am gentle. I am lowly in heart so that we could connect on a level that you didn’t know possible…”

Mourning and grief over the dream takes a lot of mental work. And, that’s okay. But, there are days when the energy just seems to be gone

“Only I can provide you the rest you need. I’m the One that doesn’t run dry”

The dream may be broken and my little boy still gone, but I’m trusting Jesus for the rest I need to make it in a world where the dreams don’t always turn out.


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