Where is my faith?

Today is a hard day.  A day I knew I would see one day, but I didn't know how much it would hurt. 

I belong to a unique club.  My new associations are mostly parents of special needs children.  We share some diagnoses, yet each of our kids are so different.  We talk on a frequent basis, mostly through the internet, and we pray for one another always.  Many of these parents have become my best friends, and I have come to adore their children.  These sweet spirits teach and inspire me, and these parents remind me I am not alone.  We celebrate our children's huge milestones and we are not alone when we cry tears of sorrow and grief.

Today was a first.  One of my dear online friends had to say goodbye to her sweet boy.  This boy was a year older than Jayson, and he had some similar conditions.  It was through their common conditions that his mom and I bonded.  I knew that one day I was going to have to read a message about the passing of one of the angels I have come to know, but I thought I was okay with death.  I thought I had a strong testimony.  I thought I knew with certainty that these little babes return straight to their Heavenly Father's arms.  But the truth is I am not okay with his passing.  I'm not.

It scares me.  If Bradley can be stable one moment and gone the next, I'm scared what can happen with my own warrior.  This really shakes my world.

What about his parents?  What will his parents do?  A special needs child consumes more time, thoughts, energy and prayers than the average child.  With him gone, it will leave a bigger hole in their lives than losing a typical child.  Their hearts will break as they receive reminder calls for his doctor appointments, as therapists come by to find out he is gone.  They will need to clean out not only his room, but all of his many medical supplies.  They will quickly go from a day filled with simple tasks to keep their child alive to having a lot of extra time to miss him.  They will still wake up in the middle of the night to check on him.  They will still worry about him every time they leave the house.  They will still say his name in their concerned prayers.  It will take a very long time to establish a new routine, thoughts, worries, wishes and prayers now that he is gone.  What will they do???  My heart hurts so much for them.  I would typically say that I can't imagine what they are going through, but I can imagine it.  And I don't want to.  I hate feeling a portion of their pain.  And again, it scares me.

What about Bradley?  As I said, I have a testimony of the after life.  But do I know 100%???  Do any of us know 100%?  I think I would HAVE to in order to be okay with losing a child.  I think my friend knows with complete certainty.  I'm not there yet.  I hope little Bradley is sitting on Jesus' lap right now.  I hope he is running and playing with his friends and family members on the other side.  I imagine that he is laughing and talking like he hasn't been able to do before.  But I wish I knew for sure he was.  I don't know what our future holds with Jayson and his medical journey.  But I have a long way to go before I'm ready to say goodbye to my baby.  I need to KNOW without a doubt where he will be.  I need to know without a doubt that I will be with him again, and that there's a special place in heaven for him.  I have said many times that I know families are forever, but it took a heart breaking event like this to stir up my itty bitty doubts.  I know that these doubts, no matter how small they are, could break me if I were to lose my child.  I need to have the faith of my sweet friend.  I need to have the faith of other special needs moms.  I need to increase my own faith so that I am able to sincerely celebrate the return of these sweet spirits to their Heavenly Father instead of mourn their passing. 

Until then, I am just heart broken and fearful. 

So I think I'm going on a spiritual journey.  My faith is strong, but it could be stronger.  I am strong, but I could be stronger.  Until I get there, I'm going to hold onto the faith that I have.  And that faith tells me that Bradley is finally home and free from his fragile body, and will one day welcome his sweet mommy with open arms.