Confessions of a grieving mother

Confessions of a grieving mother

I found my self today grappling with the fact that God gave his son for me and I am having a hard time giving my son back. The way He asked me was loving, enduring and clearly the desire of His heart. But, why am I unable to give this child of my to God who loves me more than I can comprehend, who's plans are good for me and His will being so soverign and generious. The last thing I ever want to do is grapple with God over this one. In my heart I want to freely give as he ask, and yet I am selfish, angry at times and jealous even. I find myself questioning things I swore I never would.

If only this was the only confession. I have become critical even judgmental. I splatter my grief like a toxic paint on what seems to be everyone around me. What I complain about is not even the fact that I will be laying my son to rest when he is born. It's about everything else under the sun. My pet peaves are on a hightened sense of irritation and I am itching to voice my opion. When what is that anyway. Being right is all that is, being right, and even then most times its not worth it.

Who am I to complain? Yet, at this moment I am not as thankful as I long to be. Im in a pit of pain, grief, discontent, and even worse bitterness. I know its a mistake to look at the grass on the other side of the fence, yet at times the side I am on is some times unbearable. What I don't want is to look back at this time and wish I worshiped more, was more thankful, and offered more grace because the grace offered to me in this time of my life is truely a gift in it's self.

Just some confessions of a grieving mother.