August has once again come and gone …
August was always a BIG month in my family of origin. My sister’s birthday is the 6th. My brother (Kevin) was born on the 14th. I was born on the 22nd. My parents’ anniversary was the 21st. While I was growing up, August was THE month. My brother David was SUPPOSED to be an August birthday, but he was late three entire weeks and didn’t show up until the third week of September; otherwise, all four of us siblings would have shared August birthdays, eight days apart.
The month of August became far more meaningful for me when my second son was born on the 7th. He was an unexpected surprise pregnancy that the Lord made very special because I got to hear his heartbeat on the very day I found out he was in my womb: January 20, 1981 (inauguration day for President Ronald Reagan). That day will always stand out for me, perhaps because of the shock of finding out another baby was on the way—but mostly because of the timing and how far the pregnancy was along … as I listened to his steady heartbeat, I loved him instantly. I have to be honest, though, I cried for the next two weeks out of sorrow for how already difficult our situation was at home.
My labor was brief and quite painless; the doctor (by the name of Dr. Cruikshank!) was amazed at the ease of your delivery. I was super thankful but a little bit overwhelmed with bringing home a newborn when there was already a 15-month old baby waiting for me there, and a not-so-stable husband who was struggling with addictions and brokenness and deep heartache of his own that just would not be healed.
I watched my little boy grow and delighted in him in so many ways. He brought so much joy to everything around the house and even our neighborhood. He was quick to make friends, had a ready humor, and a commanding personality. I wondered if I could possibly love a child more than I loved him.
Hard times came—stuff too difficult to write—and I lost this beloved son. I ended up making some foolish choices that further separated us and hurt our family. I’ve tried to apologize, but always with added “excuses” as to why things ended up the way they did. I grieve this very much. Not being a part of his life has been a very great loss to me.
I am thankful that I have been forgiven by the Lord, who is the Master of forgiveness. I love this quote by Reinhold Niebuhr (I have NO idea who this fellow is): “LOVE is an act of endless forgiveness. Forgiveness is me giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me. Forgiveness is the final act of love.” Endless forgiveness … that’s what the Lord does for me (for all of us!) day after day after day. His love is so perfect, so healing. And everlasting!
This belated birthday post is just to say I love you, dear son. Perhaps one day we will be able to be in the same room and look each other straight in the eye without feeling regret, alienation, or that aching loss. I surely hope so with all of my heart.
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