lunch

I had lunch yesterday with a sweet friend of mine. We'll call her SF...short for sweet friend. The cleverness never ends, does it? Anyway... I am little surprised these days that she even wants to have anything to do with me. I haven't been much fun lately. But she agreed to meet me for lunch yesterday.

Because that's what SF's do.

Our conversation covered a wide range of topics. We talked about documenting our faith stories for our children. (little does she know about my blog, since none of my IRL friends know about it.. that I know of!) I told her about my recent shot record fiasco. And since she knows the details of the major things stressing me out these days, we talked about that some too. And I could hardly keep from bawling for most of our meal.

I started on some new hormone medication the other day and laughingly told her that I checked to see if mood swings were a side affect and alas they were not. So my crazy emotional state is all me. I don't know whether to say LOL or boo hoo, ya know?

We also talked about how we've both experienced different kinds of losses. And that those losses are teaching us not to hold on to things like our children quite as hard. I nodded in agreement...tears already filling my eyes. Life is fragile.

She is not the first person in the past week I've had that discussion with.

But talking about not holding tightly to our children reminded me of something. Something I have never told her. Something I've never told anybody. I remember very early on in my walk with God, that He was calling me to tell Him that my children were His. I think I knew that mentally and in our denomination, we do what is called a dedication where the parents promise to raise their kids and bring them up to want to know Christ and 'dedicate' our children to God, but for many it is mostly a ceremony and a photo op. And deep down in my heart, I knew I was holding on to my children and so this is why He was calling me to tell Him they were His. I did.

And I grieved. Like a death.

Probably a year or so after that is when neuroblastoma came into our lives. And you know the rest of the story. But I think a part of me grieved that loss long before it was to become a reality. Sometimes people say that my story makes them hold on to their own children tighter.

Don't.

Hold on to HIM tighter. Because He is the one that holds their lives in His hands.