BEAUTIFUL BOY

Where have you gone my beautiful boy?

Where have you gone?

Your eyes, once bright blue

have turned to grey...

Where have they gone?

Where have you gone my beautiful boy?

Where have you gone?

Your golden hair now an ashen hue;

Where is the gold now my love?

Where have you gone my beautiful boy?

Where have you gone?

Your rosy cheeks have turned to pale;

Where is the smile that sat in the middle?

Where is the smile that held so many perfect little chicklet teeth?

The smile has given in to your pain…

Where have you gone my beautiful boy?

Where have you gone?

Your once flawless skin now tracked with marks

and the blood that flows beneath, mixed with poison

Where have you gone my beautiful boy?

Where have you gone?

Your strong and tall frame now bent with cares that were never intended to be yours;

Where have you gone? Who took you from me?

How do I get you back?

I am looking for my exuberant child…has anyone seen him?

I know I will find him…

the promise of God rests on his life

There he is! There is my beautiful boy!

He is not lost at all….but resting in the arms of his Father.

I LOVED HER LOVE

As I am here lying in my bed, the very same place that my mother was sleeping a week ago, I am suddenly overcome by emotion and flooded with memories of her face.

The woman who gave me life is now getting close to passing from this one.

Even if she recovers this time, we will never again have the conversations that we used to have. We will never shop for that Easter dress she always wanted me to have, we will never eat at Taco Bell together, and I will not play Skip-Bo with her or hang up from our phone call so she can watch Alex Trebeck, her secret crush, ask the Jeopardy question.

You see, my mother was always my hero. I secretly grew up wanting to be like her. I loved her love. There were a lot of things she wasn't, but the things she was - were powerful. And loving was one.

She was a godly woman. I could not venture to guess how many times she read the Bible through, but I never knew her NOT to read her Bible and study its concepts.

She was a woman of prayer.  She was mighty on her knees. When my mighty warrior father died, I knew she would carry on....and carry on she did. Our family was literally held together by her prayers and faith that God would come through in every situation. And He did...always.

She was a lover of her family. There was never a moment that I did not feel loved by her. She always wanted to know every detail of the family and what everyone was doing and she would use this information to pray for us all. She didn't pass information from one to the next, but kept things to herself and brought them before her heavenly Father.

There were times I would desperately pick up the phone and quickly say "Mom, I need you to pray right now about this." She would say, "OK, call me when you have the answer." Honestly, sometimes not 5 minutes would go by and the answer would be there!

When I was growing up I always knew I could talk to my mother. I probably could have talked to her about more than I did, but she was available and loved to have deep conversations with me.

I know this is a lot of rambling and not very poetic, but I have been holding my emotions in check for this entire week, not wanting to get out of control - and as I looked at a picture that someone in our family posted on Facebook - I was struck by the realities and inevitability of the near future without her...and my face is covered with tears.

Tonight, she is lying nearly lifeless in her hospital bed... 

Dear God, please take her home.