Those of you who know our sweet Freddo would probably agree that he’s an absolute darling. Since I’m Fred’s mom I probably have lots of biases about how utterly fabulous he is, but I really do think he’s an especially great little guy. I was thinking tonight about how though I love my kids all the time, I really enjoy my kids most when they are obeying me. Life with my little ones is just so much more pleasant when they listen to me and put their trust in me. Not in a Queen of the Manor kind of way, but in a “I love you and I’ve thought (way more than you have) about what I really believe is best for you and to you and I just want you to trust me” kind of way.
One of the things I really love about Freddo is that he is such an easy going little guy. This is a feature he has clearly inherited from his Daddy. Fred is almost always easy going, and very obedient most of the time. He of course, like all kids, has those rare and fiery moments when he doesn’t listen and doesn’t want to obey, and he had one of those just yesterday. He was in the middle of said moment, when he wasn’t getting what he wanted, and suddenly I heard him say, “Mommy! You’re making me break!” I wasn’t sure if I had heard him right but then later that day when he was in the middle of another tantrum (yesterday was quite the day) I heard him yelling, “Daddy! That breaks me!! Stop breaking me!” I have no idea where he even got this deep lingo from, but I was struck tonight by the similarities between my heart and Freddo’s as I walk through this journey of grief.
Some moments I am still raging against the loss of baby Charlie. I wanted so badly to live life with our baby boy. A lot of my day I spend fighting against this in my heart and bringing God the disappointment and heartache of this being the story He has written for our lives. In those moments, I feel like my soul is crying out to God, “Daddy! You’re breaking me!” Losing my baby boy is breaking me. Breaking my heart. Breaking my beautiful dreams of life with Charlie. Breaking my box of who I thought God was. Breaking my faith in me. Right now…so many things are breaking.
And then there are the other moments of grief. These are rare for me, but when they come I am struck once again by the similarities between Fred and me. There are moments when I just tell Fred to trust me…and he trusts me. I just tell him to obey me…and he obeys me wholeheartedly. In those moments I know I could ask him to do anything…because in those moments he has unwavering trust in my love for him and that I really do deep down have his best interest in mind. Losing Charlie has been the deepest heart ache of my life. Burying our baby boy has been the moment in my life where God has most clearly done what I most never wanted Him to do. It has also been the moment when I have most clearly heard God saying to me, “I love you and I’ve thought (way more than you have) about what I really believe is best for you and to you, and I just want you to trust me…” and the similarities are not lost on me. God is my Father. And I am his child. God is asking me to trust Him, and I am given a moment by moment choice of whether I will trust Him and keep holding tightly to His hand. And so I chose daily, sometimes hourly and minutely, to hold tightly to His hand…even if right now it is so very hard to look Him in the eyes.
And in those moments when my heart choses surrender to Him, and to His love, and to His plan…they really have been unspeakably sweet. The best moments of the last four weeks have been those rare and beautiful glimpses of surrender when I have been able to say, “Daddy, I trust you,” even as I cry out “Daddy, You’re breaking me.” There is beauty in the breaking.