The Journey Continues: My prayer the night of July 30th

I am not yet ready to write out the next part of the journey where we talked with the Doctor. What I would like to share is a journal entry that I wrote on July 30th late at night when I was unable to sleep. Journaling is a process. I often write down many different thoughts as well as what God shows me in that moment. This night was a special one as I was able to see just how much God longs for our complete healing and reconciliation with Him in the physical sense of entering Heaven.


Please note that my journal entries are unedited. Anything that you read is pure, raw emotion and an honest portrayal of how my mind often works through everything that I am going through.


Here is my Journal entry to God July 30th in Fort Pierce, Florida Holiday Inn:



“I really don’t have the words enough right now to say what is going on inside of me. Seeing Mom in the hospital bed all hooked up makes my heart hurt. She doesn’t deserve this. She hasn’t deserved such pain that she has endured for so long. I understand that many do not view death as a positive thing but you oh Lord see it as a glorious beginning to eternity with you! It is selfish of us to want to keep her here in a state of pain and hardship, especially when Heaven is our true home. You also long for us… You are selfish of us… You want us to be with you.


I know how much Mom loves you. I know that for many years her longing for Heaven has grown. It naturally should for any follower of you. Now, Lord we ask that you would guide us in these moments. If your will is to heal her here on earth we ask that you would do so. Please have her awaken, brain healed, lupus gone and body fully functioning. Essentially we are asking you to raise her from the dead. If not on this earth at this time Lord then please take her peacefully home into your arms. And may those who are a little distant from you come to an understanding of how much you love Mom! And just because of this separation it does not mean that you do not love us.


Oh, Lord please meet her in her sleep. Walk with her, talk with her. Please come to her aid. Help us to let her go. She has been beaten and broken down for so long. Please rescue her! Please pick her up and take her home… Right now that is what looks best. It is what is least selfish unless you reveal to us that you still have plans for her here. Please guide us… Show us your will.


“Through the process. Through the waiting. You’re making melodies over me.” Oh Lord, you love us so greatly. Each of us is special to you. Thank you for your promises! You long for us… You long for us more than I ever fully realized until today. It’s more than just giving a part of ourselves to you but our entire being. That will never be fully complete until we joyfully run into your arms in Heaven. You long for that day we enter Heaven, our home that you prepared for us! It’s crystal clear to me now… Wow, such love! Such love!!! Why on earth would we keep your children here so long? We do everything we can to make them stay on this earth. Yes we will miss them but honestly, who would ever keep a child from going home who truly loved that person? Heaven is our home.”



As you can see, there are thoughts here that are in pieces. Currently, I am thankful that God longs for us as He does. I am glad that my Mom no longer suffers but the separation seems so far. I have been angry that she had to be in the hospital like she did. I do not understand why she had to go through that part. But I also realize that sometimes the process is needed for multiple reasons. These reasons I will probably never fully know until I enter Heaven. By that time, the only thing that will matter is meeting the several nurses and doctors that may have come to Jesus because of that time.


As the holidays are starting to loom before us, and life goes on, the ache for my Mom only deepens. It has not yet been 3 months since she entered Heaven and somehow I expect myself to not feel such a deep ache for her. There are some days I do not know how to make it through the next hour. But God is always there to give me the strength that I need in those moments.


If you are currently going through your own loss please know that there is hope. God understands your grief. He is more gracious to you than you probably are to yourself. Go ahead and cry. Give yourself permission to grieve. Cling to God as He carries you through this journey. Never give up. He will show you the beauty in this mess.

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Journey Part 3: Waiting and a Moment to Treasure Forever.

The remaining days were filled with many unanswered questions. Long hospital visits make one day feel like it is a week long. We would take turns staying with Mom. When we were not with her, we were down in the cold waiting area. The first couple of days went by without talking with the Doctor. He was in emergency brain surgery attempting to save a life of a man who had been shot in the head several blocks down the road. The wait to hear from the Doctor literally was one of the most torturous things for me. I wanted answers. Every single one of us did.


Each time we would all go see Mom, someone would be looking for positive signs of recovery for her. I would feel this sense of denial mixed with hope. Deep within myself, I prayed that God would heal her here on earth. But to be perfectly honest, deep down, I knew before even flying out to Florida that I would never see my Mom alive on this earth again. It was on the flight to Florida that I finally realized that the last hug I gave her in the airport to see them off to Dominica, would be my last hug from her. It was the reason why I was adamant that I made the trip to see my parents off, even though I had been up the previous night and into the early morning with the worst flu I had since the swine flu.


I remember one particular day where my Dad needed to go purchase clothes as well as other items. My husband, Uncle Nate and myself stayed at the hospital while everyone else went to help Dad. I wanted to spend as much time with my Mom as I possibly could. She could not speak. She was not even awake. When she moved it was random. Each moment that I had with her felt like a precious gift even though the conversation was one sided. But on this particular day, I remember seeing the nurses care for her in ways I had not seen before. They would check the monitors, take blood, turn her over to a different side, and move her tubes down her throat. This was all hard to see as she would cough and gasp for breath. Every beep of the monitor would make my heart race. Because of this I learned how to take long, deep breaths.  Sometimes the room would spin but I was determined to stay as long as I could with my Mom. God was holding me, for I had already collapsed into his loving arms.


Something about this day with her felt different to me. I felt God’s peace in the room more heavily. I began to read more of her favorite passages of scripture. I would read anywhere from 10-20 minutes at a time out loud hoping that she could hear every word. She loved reading her Bible. She loved her precious Savior. After reading to her for some time, the nurses rotated her again. After they left I felt prompted to start talking to her just like the times we would have together over a cup of coffee. Gently placing my hand into her right hand, I felt a squeeze after I told her how much I loved her. The timing was perfect. Some people would say that this was just a coincidence but I know that it was not, and I will forever treasure that moment.


For that one moment felt as if my Mom was hugging my heart.


For that one moment, God was showing me the beauty within the mess of us. He knew exactly what I needed to help get me through what was to come.

Part 2: A Journey into the unknown, heartache and hope

When we made it to Fort Pierce, Florida there were a mingling of feelings. We were all very relieved to be together with our Dad. It was a bittersweet moment as we embraced him, thankful to be with him, yet so filled with sorrow knowing why we were being reunited a month earlier than planned. We were all doing our best to put on brave faces as we held back tears.


The time stretched on for far too long even though only minutes passed before we were headed to the hospital. Even though I knew that God was holding Mom, dread literally filled my heart as I imagined what the next few hours were going to be like, let alone the next few days. I believed that God could heal her but I also knew that sometimes it is best to let others go home to our eternal home, Heaven. As much as God had been preparing me personally for such a time, I felt as though the floor was starting to crumble beneath my feet.


When we made it to the hospital we had to show our ID’s and get our pictures taken for security reasons due to the domestic violence issues in the city. Only two people were allowed to go up to Mom’s room at a time. Since none of us were there right at the beginning of Mom’s admittance to the hospital, they made an exception for all of us to go up together for our first time. We silently followed Dad through the halls that seemed like it would go on forever. Tension filled the waiting area as we were the only family present. I had to remind myself to breathe as the world started to spin.


Two at a time, we took turns going into Mom’s room. When it was my turn with my husband, Jeremy, I knew walking in that my Mom was in a state that she never wanted any of us to see. She had the normal life support tubes and a drainage tube on top of her head to help drain the fluid buildup in her brain. The left side of her face was still limp. Monitors were everywhere and the nurses were never too far to care for her.


At this point there was no more being brave. Tears that had been held back for several hours were now dripping down my face. I searched for her hand in hopes to grab it and feel some sense that she knew that we were there. A part of me was scared to touch her due to my fear that I would hurt her worse. Her chest moved with each breath and every now and then, a small movement from her leg or arm would make me hope that she would be able to move normal again.


I am not sure how long we were with her but it seemed like an instant and forever all at once. Jeremy and I talked to her as if she could hear every single word. I remember telling her that it was so good to see her and that she looked beautiful even on the hospital bed. She never opened her eyes. Her lips never moved. And all this time, deep down inside me, I knew that night that there would be a time soon that I would need to tell her that it was fine for her to go home to Heaven; that it was okay for her to go meet her baby and all those gone before her; and finally run into the arms of Jesus.


But we still had so much to do. There was a huge part of me that hoped for a little more time with my Mom. I hoped beyond hope to be able to see some beauty beyond the damage to her brain. I hoped for no more sorrow. I hoped to see the light in my Dad’s eyes come back again. I prayed that this would not destroy us, for it felt like we were in a whirlwind and there was no knowing when it would end.


Before falling asleep that night I asked God, “Please show us the beauty in this. Please help us. We need you.”