Papa, was it you this morning who whispered to me as my thoughts ran towards Jettie, “You need to let her go”? You have said that to me before, but this time the context made it make even more sense. I was headed into regret, as you know. Father, I know that you don’t mean for me to let go of the memories and the legacy she left for us, but I do know that it’s time to let go of regret and the sense of loss. I suppose that grief becomes selfish at some point if I don’t recognize that for her, things are better by far and that her legacy will endure forever. Papa, I wonder if I had known how badly she was suffering whether I would have let her go even sooner. I cannot imagine the stress she was facing as she fought so hard to stay with us, but much of that was her own choosing, I guess. Still, if I had known that we would fail to lay hold of her healing…I wonder. All along I said that I wouldn’t make her a guinea pig while I “learned faith.” So given all of this, why is it so hard to let go, I wonder? And yet I cannot deny the great sense of loss that hangs over all of us, and so I grieve until you lead me to a different place.
Papa, will I ever start hearing you again like I did before? It is rare that I write any words from you here, but perhaps that is a good thing since so much of what I thought I was hearing during the journey needs to "come under review." Yet I know you are speaking. I look to you as best I can.
Tom's reflections: just a short time after I wrote these words I went for a walk, and God clearly and in unmistakeable ways spoke to me. I cannot find the words to describe how faithful He is in all of this even while I wrestle with the things I let you in on in the paragraphs above. You will find Him just as faithful, I know, and I hope that my transparent ramblings will help you to see how His kindness is unfolding in your life just as it is in mine.
Stay lost in His love,
Tom, one of Abba's little children