Sad As Stone

Sad As Stone

It’s been a while. A long time has passed since I have settled my fingers to the keys and put my thoughts to paper. Even now, struggling to return, I find myself in an awkward state of writer’s block where once the words flowed so freely. Nonetheless, I persist in some sort of attempt to get back in the saddle and press on to a call that has sounded so clearly for so long.

Last year was without question the most difficult year I have ever faced– culminating in the greatest loss I have ever felt.

When Jacob left.

I sit and stare at those words with the blinking cursor taunting me. What do you say about the loss of a person so dear who you have never really known? Where do you go from that place? How can you describe the war torn emotions in your heart? There is a sense of sadness for the loss of my own child. There is a sense of feeling selfish in the wake of knowing there are many who have no children. There is a sense of fear for the future as losing Jacob was an explosive disruption in all of my best-laid plans. Plans to have my brood of boys, plans for the fourth brother, plans for carrying out a God-given legacy in our next generation.

When I pulled up my site to write once more, my breath caught as I saw the theme of my last post. It had been so long, I couldn’t even remember what had been last written. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91:1) Soon after life settled back into its abnormal normalcy, I remember telling sweet husband that I felt that very verse was my heart’s cry. You know when you just want to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over your head and sit alone and cry in the dark? Grown up life doesn’t really afford us that luxury most days. So when I feel like crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over my head and sitting alone and crying in the dark, I instead tuck myself under the shelter of the Most High. I find myself wrapped in the shadow of His wing. And it is only there I find rest. Only there will I find my healing.

Some weeks passed after losing Jacob, and I found myself in what I would refer to as the blank stare state. No longer did I cry at every chance remembrance of my loss. But certainly that did not mean I wasn’t sad. In fact, I felt sad as stone. So sad I didn’t even have the energy to be sad. So I just kept walking. Blankly. Sad as stone. One morning, I turned the page of my daily calendar perched on the shelf of the bathroom, and it said, “He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many people will see this and worship Him. Then they will trust in the Lord.” (Psalm 40:3) It was also at this time that we had been writing sweet notes to our boys every morning leading up to Valentine’s Day. My mom, knowing we were doing this and taking our lead, began texting my brother and me each morning with something she loved about us. That morning? She said, “I love that music is a part of your soul.” Later that same morning, I got a call from my pastor who mentioned in our conversation that he had been thinking of a book he had in his library, and God laid me on his heart. “The last chapter is about finding your song again.”

Yes God. I hear you. Loud and clear. I know that I will not be sad as stone forever. I know that allowing myself to do that would be a waste of sweet Jacob’s life. “For in the night… Jacob wrestled with God, and said, ‘I will not let go until I receive your blessing.’” (Genesis 32:24-26) In the night, I will cling to God, and I will not let go until I receive His blessing. For I believe that in my next chapter, my song will be restored…


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