He Came to Complete my Brokenness

I have always been one easily moved by moments/songs/memories where I can sense something bigger than what is on the surface. I am a deeply emotional person, as are most women I guess. I cry during the National Anthem because of all it represents to me, all the people I know as a military kid who have sacrificed so much. I seem to cry a lot during worship when the reality of the words on my lips overpowers my soul. I tear up a lot this time of year because the beauty of the season (the lights, the carols, the traditions, ...) really touches me. I think about Mary and her journey to motherhood. I think about the deep, deep significance of Christ humbly coming to earth as a baby to save all people. But mostly, I get very emotional when I find myself in the midst of a moment with my loved ones, my boys... a moment where time seems to stand still and I am struck with the "big-ness" of life.

I had one such moment tonight... watching Polar Express of all things. I watched as my awe-struck, train-lovin' little boy sat and watched this movie with his eyes as wide as saucers. Every few minutes, he would turn to me and announce with exuberance the amazing thing he had just seen. "That boy is walking on top on the train, mommy!!" I smiled in response as my littlest boy sat cooing in my lap. Lucas eventually made his way down to the floor where I was sitting with Caden and climbed into my lap. I had both my boys, contentedly sitting with their mama, all snuggled up against my chest. The beauty of that moment was not lost on me. And quite predictably, I started to cry. I held them close and tried to drink it all in. My boys, two of them anyway. Lucas was once this small and how fast the time will go with Caden too. The days are not too far off when they won't want to sit with mama anymore. But my tears were not for how quickly my boys are growing up. The emotion of the moment was simply having them at all. Having lost my first, having moments to hold and kiss these two will NEVER be lost on me.

I was asked by a friend today if having Caden now makes my family feel complete. I answered with an emphatic yes, because he really does in so many ways. But not completely complete. Holding my two boys tonight and watching the wonder on Lucas' face, I felt warm and full. Yet empty. I squeezed them both to savor the moment, these seconds where I feel so grateful for being their mother. I am overwhelmed by the enormity of this calling at times, but can't imagine anything I would rather be called to. But it is also in these moments of maternal clarity that I feel the deepest joy and grief all at once.

This same friend blogged today about missing her baby she hasn't met yet. It is about such a deep longing, a physical need to be connected to that baby and touch him and see his face. I know that pain. I am feeling it right now. I can hold and touch and kiss two of my babes but the one I cannot will always leave a big hole. Even as I sit here and type and weep, I try to remember what is was like to hold him and touch him and kiss his soft skin. And it is hard to remember. So I lean down and kiss Caden instead because it helps soothe my maternal aching. My longing does not lessen my love or appreciation for the special moments with Lucas and Caden. If anything, it deepens it. I want ALL my boys. I long for it. Longing doesn't even scratch the surface. And I know it will never be so here on earth and that is why I will never be completely complete.

In this season where we celebrate God sending His Son to earth, I am moved by so many things. Precious moments with my boys, the simple beauty of a brightly lit tree glimmering through the snow, the words and peaceful music of the carols, ... But mostly, I get emotional when I am reminded of the truth that Christ came to earth not just to save me, but to make me whole. To heal the places where I am wounded and raw and longing. To complete my brokenness. And when I look at my boys and hold them close, I know the He came to heal their brokenness too. My little Micah is is heaven, also now whole. And although I long for the day when I can hold him and kiss him and tell him how very much his mommy has missed him, I am oh-so grateful for moments like tonight when God reaches down and opens my eyes to the amazing gifts I have right here in my lap. I am the mother of three boys, and I can kiss two of them. So I will. Every chance I get.

P.S.~I just read this over before clicking "publish" and it seems a bit jumpy. I don't know what to do about that so I apologize to those who actually read this far down. It is the result of trying to transform my raw emotion into cohesive thoughts and it is harder than it seems. But it is helpful for me to have an outlet for this raw emotion and to process it all. So thanks for bearing with me, if you were able to follow me. Consider it ramblings from a grateful yet grieving mama who is caught up in a moment of deep love and longing for all three of my sons. Longing for complete completeness that only God can bring. May God grant you, and me, His perfect peace.