Missing them made me even more grateful.

 I wrote this a few weeks ago...right after July 4, 2025.

While I was doing final edits to this,
There Was Jesus played in the background.  At the bottom of this blog the link to the music will be there. It gave me so much more peace while re-reading this blog. 

Grief… it touched so many this past week.

This was the first time my boys went on vacation for an entire week without me…and to be honest, it was harder than I expected. People told me I’d enjoy the peace and quiet, but I haven’t felt that at all.

On Friday (July 4^th), Jeffrey and I went to the movies, but I couldn’t shake the awful pit in my stomach. The boys had left for Colorado that morning, and I found myself consumed with worry about their safety. All I could do was pray. It was the only thing that eased the anxiety I was carrying.

As we left the theater, I started hearing reports about the flooding in Kerrville. My boys and their grandparents had driven through that area, probably while we were still watching the film. Wyatt has always been uneasy during storms, and a wave of concern swept over me…for both him and Garrett. Thankfully, they were safe and had already passed through.

Later that evening, more grim news filled my phone screen. The flood. The death toll. The camp. And regret hit me hard. I had sent my boys away. I knew they were with people who love them, but the "what ifs" wouldn't leave my mind.

Would they be okay? Would they be scared? Were they too young to go without me?

I couldn’t help but imagine receiving that kind of phone call…the one no mother ever wants. I don’t even like to speak it aloud. The boys have called a few times to say “I love you,” and it fills me with comfort… but a quiet anxiety still lingers, reminding me just how fragile life can be.

Before they had left for their trip, I reminded them (again) to wear their seat belts. Wyatt promised they would. I kissed his forehead and told them I loved them, whispering a silent prayer for their safe return.

And then it hit me—some parents won’t get to kiss their children again. They won’t hear their laughter. My heart broke all over again.

I had looked forward to this quiet week with Jeffrey… but now I just want them home. I miss them more than I can say. And when they return, I’ll hold them so tight they’ll probably beg me to let go. But I won’t be able to help it.

Grief struck close to home this week—someone I love is facing the unthinkable loss of their child.  I have no words. None that could help. Sometimes silence is all we have. Sometimes just being there is all we can do.

I believe God is still good. I believe He’s always working for our good—even when we can’t see it. In the moment, everything feels overwhelming and impossible to understand. But in time, we often gain the clarity we lacked. Still, we can’t undo what’s already happened. And words can’t fix what’s broken.

But Jesus can carry us through it. He is our strength when we have none. He is our comfort when the pain is too great.

This week, I’m praying deeply for all the families affected by the flood—for those still searching, still waiting, and still grieving. And I’m especially praying for my dear friends mourning the loss of their son.

Hold your kids tight. Say “I love you” a little more often. Be present in the moment…. because none of us are promised tomorrow.

And please know, I care about each one of you. But even more than that, God loves you more than you could ever imagine.