But for the grace of God...

Hearing about tragedies always always causes me to think about how life is so fleeting. How we don't know what will happen tomorrow, or even 5 seconds from now. I imagine people going about their daily lives, not having any idea that life is about to drastically change. Or end. It causes me to ponder the Sovereignty of God. The goodness of God.

There have been many tragedies for me to ponder. They seem to go in waves, where I hear about one tragedy after another. Freak accidents. Children with cancer who Jesus heals in heaven instead of on earth. A child with a harmless ear infection turned meningitis. Millions of impoverished people with no food and water, in the wake of 4 storms, one on top of another.

It is staggering to me how many tragedies involving children I have heard of in the past several months.

Especially in the world of blogging, you don't have to look too hard or long to find a website with a gazillion hits every day from complete strangers, watching and caring about a sick child or sick mommy. There are SO many people that are hurting. Deep, wrenching, heart-splitting sobbing kind of hurting.

I have to say that I am scared to death to post the following story. I'm not altogether sure I'm ready to share it with the world. But Someone is drawing me to, and so I will. But know that I have a big fat pit in my stomach as I hit "Publish Post".

Early this summer, on a Sunday after church, we drove up to our home. It was the first hot day, at 84 degrees outside. I was in a fog (I had a terrible headache), in a rush (we were hungry), really stressed (that evening, Matt and I were both performing in a recital, and we had yet to secure a babysitter for our kids), and generally, we were just out of our element. Not at all acting or feeling like ourselves.

We went about our business, rushing around to get lunch ready, I was on and off the phone with several potential babysitters, and some friends, trying to nail down exactly what we would do with our children that night for the recital. 20 minutes passed, with all of us going everywhere all at the same time. Can you imagine the scene? It was chaos.

All of a sudden, it hit me like a load of bricks. "Where's Isaac?". I hung up on my friend.

Matt: I don't know. Didn't you put him in bed? I thought you put him in bed.

Me: NO. I did NOT put him in bed.

PANIC. Chaos. I ran upstairs to confirm that I wasn't crazy. No, I didn't put him in bed.

My heart was racing and my chest hurt. We had been outside. Were the gates open and he wandered off? I didn't remember having seen Isaac in a long time.

Then, it occurred to me that I didn't remember seeing Isaac AT ALL since we got home.

(a horrid thought)

Me: Did we get him out of the CAR??!!

Matt: I think so?... I'll check.

Matt ran outside, and as I glanced out the window I was so. relieved. to see my poor sweet baby boy, being unbuckled and lifted out of the car by my no-color-left-in-his-face husband. Isaac was drenched in sweat, and when Matt handed him to me, he just flopped down on me like a doll. He didn't look well. His skin was bright red.

My relief turned to panic again. I whipped off his clothes and went and got the thermometer.

98.9. "He's fine. It was only 20 minutes. He's fine. He's fine."

He's fine. My boy was fine. But his Mama wasn't.

I have re-lived that scene and every potential could-have-been scene related to it. I have been angry at myself. Angry at my husband. I told him right after this happened, "I can't decide if I want to hug you or strangle you!" I was so upset that day, I actually threw up. And then had to go perform in a recital (something I hadn't done since college!). Suddenly performing felt like nothing.

My son was fine. But we could have killed him. By the grace of God, he was fine.

That awful scene with a "happy" ending has haunted me. Since then, I have been fearful about things I'm not normally fearful of. Soon after this happened, while I was backing out of a parking spot, I ran over a crack in the blacktop and the car bumped a little bit. I had this flash of the idea that it was a child, and I panicked. I pulled back in, even though I realized it was nothing. And I shook. And cried. I had to get out of the car and breathe some fresh air to get my body to stop shaking.

It's just so humbling, and brings me to my knees when I become so keenly aware of how life is a vapor. We are here for such a short time, and the truth is, we don't know how long. We don't know what tomorrow holds.

But for the grace of God, Isaac would have been out in that car all afternoon. I shudder. to. even. write. those. words.

But it's happened. We've all heard the stories.

But for the grace of God, we'd all be dead. That sounds so incredibly morbid and depressing. Until you add in the fact that God delights in us, delights in our Praise. Has plans to prosper us. And he Loves us with a perfect Love that is keeping us alive!

It's just such a different perspective... If it weren't for God's grace, we'd be dead. Let's see... I'm alive. Praise God! I'm alive!

That day in the spring, in my heart, a relatively loose grip on my children turned into a vice grip. I feared almost every day that something might happen to them. As I've preached to myself and let the Bible preach to me these past several days, I am loosening my grip again on my children. They are God's children first. God has entrusted them to me for a little while. But they are His.

So. Instead of worry. I'm pushing hard after the TRUE meaning of life. I'm passionate about following hard after Christ, trusting in my heart of hearts that He is in control and that I need not worry.

Not that this is the end of the story. It's going to be daily, "Lord, they're yours." "Lord, they're YOURS." It's a mother's heart's tendency to hold on. We need to be letting go.

Last night we read the Passion story out of our favorite new children's Bible story book, which does a fantastic job writing explanations of what's going on in the story. This version of Jesus in the garden before his arrest is so moving. It took us 15 minutes to get through a few short pages because there were so many questions from the girls, and there were many tears. There is NOTHING like a story falling on little ears with soft hearts to prick this old heart of mine.

"Mommy, WHY is he so sad?" "Because he knows he's going to die soon" (tears)

"Mommy, WHY does he ask God to let him not die?" "Because it's going to be very painful, and God is going to turn his back on Jesus while he dies, because he can't look on sin" (tears)

"But, Mommy, Jesus didn't sin!" "I know. It's our sin that God is turning his back on." (tears)

THIS is life. THIS is what I'm here for. THIS is WHO I'm here for. Not for myself or for my children, or my husband. I let go of that grip, put myself in the loving hands of Jesus and... ahhh.

There is great Joy.