whisper My name

My thoughts are all over the place.  There's a lot going on this week - today marked one month since Ian died, which brought back lots of memories and a resurgence of the sadness of losing him.  I wish we could take a snapshot of some of the memories that we hold; that those images wouldn't be be diminished by time or age.  Then, there are other memories I wish I could forget.  But, in honor of Ian today, we visited a place for dinner that we had never been before and someplace he had wanted to try - we had Basque food!

 Last night we took his sculptures to the gallery for the show that starts this weekend.  I almost made it through that without crying, but not quite.  I could see that his large piece (not pictured here), which was finished just the day before he died, was very different than the rest of the pieces in the show.  It's more organic than the other pieces, so it was kind of 'iffy' whether it would be included in the show.  Part of my brain understands this, and we know Ian would be the first to pull the piece if it detracted from the overall look of the show,  but the mom part of me was cracking.  By the time the owner was asking for titles to the pieces and then asking what I wanted to say about Ian, I lost it.  What do I say?  That he was brilliant? That he showed such great promise?  That we will never know what he could have accomplished if he had lived?  Luckily, Autumn was there and she agreed to write something up about Ian.

I read something the other day that helped get me through the day.  "Whenever you feel distant from Me, whisper My name in loving trust.  This simple prayer can restore your awareness of My Presence.....When you trustingly whisper My Name, My aching ears are soothed....The power of My Name to bless both you and Me is beyond your understanding."  It's been hard to feel God's presence lately; I believe He's near, I believe He's watching over us.  I'm trying to see through the holes that have been ripped in the tapestry of Ian's life, to see God shining through but this sadness makes it hard to see.  So in those moments when things are hazy, I whisper 'Jesus', and I know He understands my heartache.