Early Saturday Morning

There are mornings like this.
I'm startled awake in the wee hours of morning, and for a breath of time everything is 'normal.'
Just as quick, 'normal' is gone and I can't stand the thought of staying in bed.
I don't know what time it is, but I have to get up.


That deep gulf in the pit of my stomach reaches my heart and I take a deep breath.
I've got to do something.
I go through mail.
I start laundry.
I cry out to God.




I grab a blanket and my laptop and settle in a chair on our porch.
Birds are cooing, and chirping, and cawing, reminding me that it is a new day
reminding me that every single one of them is greeted by their Creator.
He takes care of them and He knows when even one of them falls.
A cool breeze sweeps across my face, reminding me that all things are fresh and new.
The smell of  fresh morning air, untouched by the busyness of life, reminds me, He is in every breath I take.
I am surrounded by trees and I feel so tucked away, so comforted by my Father's love.


Mornings like this I rush as fast as I can to find that solace.
It is close to creation...close to my Father's touch.


In the distance I hear traffic from the interstate, reminding me that people go on with their lives.
But, I have to be still...
I have to come to the secret place, to the quiet place to find peace,
to find strength.




The flag moves with the gentle breeze and I see the price of freedom.
I am humbled. as I reflect on the many who sacrificed their lives.
Lives - like my son's.
The rest of days I will miss my him.
The rest of my days I will long for his laughter, his hugs, his presence in this life.




A couple of sparrows perch on branches close to the porch. The delicate branches move back and forth as the little birds whistle a little tune before they fly away.


My heart is touched.


I've got to be near my Father.
I've got to embrace his nearness.
Without Him I could not endure.
I've got to have His peace.
I've got to have His grace.
It is in Him that I find joy.


He holds me close and I listen.
I listen to His heart as His words speak to the silence.


I  love listening to this nature's concert -
to the choir of birds as their melodies blend together.
An early morning symphony, just for me.




A couple of birds whistle at me...
Funny as it seems, I'd say they chuckled and winked before they flew away.




New day.


I can do this.
Because of Jesus, I can.
He wipes away our tears.
He is acquainted with every sorrow, with every grief.
He encourages my heart.
He refreshes my soul.


Good morning new day.
There is purpose.
There is hope.
There is triumph,
because of whose I am.

When I Can't Stand Alone

I can't stand alone on any given day.
Abba Father is my strength everyday.
Yet, there are still times ....
A few days ago, I had a more difficult day.
It's February and other things, and it's just been hard.
I was talking to Abba Father and said,
Sometimes I don't feel you near!
That evening I was thinking about a way to verbalize how I was feeling.
I told my listening husband,
It's like that poem, Footprints.
I've been feeling like the person who says, "Where were you God, in those difficult
times. I see there is only one set of footprints during the toughest times." I'm paraphrasing.
God looks at me and says, "One set of footrpints, you say? Well, the reason is, during those very tough times I was carrying you."


I know He carries me, but sometimes he's so quiet when he does it.
He doesn't need to be.
I'm crying and saying things.
I'm sure not being quiet as I chat away.
My heart is heavy, things are tough, you know?
I may even be quoting his Word to him - Lord, you're my Shepherd.
I lack nothing...
Yes, things like that.


There are days when I say, I need some life poured into me.
Like invisible life-giving Gatorade.
I'm drained and tired from trying.
Yesterday I had no energy.
None.
I've found this happens after going to a funeral (and I had been to one a couple days ago.)
It takes a lot out of me.
Just a fact.


I prayed a bit.
I rested.
I'm one who tries to push herself, and tell myself, you've got to do, go, don't stop.
But, sometimes I just have to stop.


After a full, long night's rest I woke up
still drained.
I watched Doctor David Jeremiah.
I really didn't want to, but I did.
He was talking about how God loves me.
Yes, me.
He has unreasonable love for me.
As I listened, I felt a little lighter.
If He loves me, He knows right where I am.
If He loves me, won't He take care of all that concerns me?
If He loves me, won't He continue to be faithful?
If He loves me, well, He loves me.
Just the way I am.


I got dressed and went to church.
I sat down, and soon, a young family sat next to me.
Their little four month old baby boy bounced into my arms, and that's
all it took.
The sweetness of a baby.
Thank you God.
He loves me.
He knows I love babies.


After  church I spoke to two new Marines, fresh out of boot camp.
Two young men, standing tall like Marines do, speaking with such respect,
like Marines do, dressed sharp and neat - like Marines.
Humble from all they went through in boot camp to form them into the
Few The Proud.
Thank you God.
He loves me.
He knows I am a Marine mom forever.
It blessed me to hear their stories, to see the high and tights that I remember so well.


My husband came home with a bouquet of flowers - no not for Valentine's Day.
Thank you God.
He loves me...and so does my husband.
God and he know I love roses and hydrangeas.


My husband took me to a Valentine's lunch.
Crab legs and prime rib, along with Bananas Foster...
Thank you God, for the good food, and for the lady who asked
about the dog tags I was wearing.
I got to tell her about Caleb.


This afternoon I chatted with a special Gold Star mom, friend
whose son will be gone from this world, 7 years tomorrow.
Caleb's is coming soon.
We chatted.
We are there for each other, even if we live states apart.


Oh! I forgot something important.
I visited with a friend this morning and talked about heaven,
and how wonderful it will be.
We will be his bride.
We will be beautiful.
After church, as we were walking out, the organ was playing.
A button was pushed is my understanding, and
it started playing the Bridal Chorus.
I had to smile.
God was reminding me....
there is coming a day.


I am thankful.
I am mindful of God's love.
I am thankful for the one set of footprints, because I know he's carrying
me, whether I feel it or not.
You know,
If I stop, and look around,
sometimes I can tell.

In Eighteen Days

February 8, 2017.
In eighteen days it will be February 26.
In eighteen days it will be four years since you left this world.


I remember thinking I would not ever write again.
The still small voice was whispering, "Write."
I kept saying, no. I have nothing to say.
But he was persistent.
"Write."
I talk to Him a lot, and I said, Really. I don't have anything to say.
He spoke to my heart.
"Be real. Tell what you know."
"Just be real," He said again.


Are you kidding?
I'm supposed to be real?
This is the hardest, most painful, experience I've ever had.
This is the most difficult thing I've ever gone through.


"I know."


If you have a relationship with Abba Father, you know what I'm talking about.
He is kind, but if we listen, he will guide us - in ways that are not always comfortable.
Most of the time they are not comfortable.
He doesn't deal in comfort.
That is not a priority.


I tried arguing with Him.
I have nothing.
No one wants to hear this.
But, in his gentle, loving voice, he kept saying,
"Write.
Be real."


So, I finally gave in.
Ok. I will.
If it will help others, I will do it.
I could feel his love, his
caring and understanding.
He would help me.


It's not easy being transparent, as I've said through the past three, almost four years.
Here I am again.
Being real.
It still hurts like crazy.
This month of February is always hard.
I don't care what anyone says, the calendar turns, and there it is.
Fresh pain.
I've never been here before.
Yesterday I've been through.
Last year, I've been through.
But, every single day is new...
it's a new experience of pain, of change.


This separation time is too huge to understand.
I can say Caleb is in heaven.
I can say Caleb was killed.
But, it's like another person speaking through my voice about someone
I know, but it's beyond comprehension
for it to be me, to be Caleb....
even though I hear the words.


I talked to a couple of special friends yesterday.
Both have sons in heaven.
We cried together.
NO. It is not easy.
No, it doesn't go away or get better.
(foot stomping here)
Some days are a little easier, but over all
everyday we have to deliberately choose to do things.
We live intentionally and on purpose.
Our Abba Father gives us strength, gives us joy that goes beyond
our broken hearts.


It's hard to think of anyone not remembering our children.
That is the scariest feeling of all.
That is what I think - what other moms have told me.
It's hard that they are gone.
It's hard going on everyday.
But the hardest thing to deal with is thinking that our loved ones will be forgotten.


Reading some posts brought me to tears.
I've seen it on other moms walls, I've seen it on other people's walls.
A picture of the loved one gone to heaven, with a friend.
Others post about the friend who is still alive and make jokes and say funny things.
Nothing is said about the one who isn't here....
it 's like they don't exist.
"Hey, Dude. Growing your hair out?"
Hey, dude.
I know you aren't trying to be mean
and you're just being funny,
but it breaks a mom's heart, because
we just want someone to honor our loved ones -
Recognize who they are, how they lived and gave...
that they were here.


It's just how a mom with a broken heart feels.


Oh, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.
Your sunshiny disposition is missed so very much.
I want the world to remember you, and honor you
forever.
I know it's not in my control.
I know there will be things that will be hurtful.
Ugh.


This journey is not one I'd want for anyone.
The club I was forced to join is filled with thousands of parents just like me.
We didn't want to be here.
We didn't choose this life.
We would much rather not be in this club.


One time a friend of mine was asked about the Gold Star parents.
"How do you join this club?"
The reply -
The dues are way too high.
You don't ever want to join.
The life of my son/daughter was the price to be in this exclusive
club.


We didn't have a choice.
We couldn't say, "No thanks."


February is a hard month.
It just is.


I'm reminded of my son's life everyday.
I love hearing stories about him, and seeing pictures of him.


February, I want to honor Caleb.
That's all......


I love you Caleb.
I love you forever.

Googling Tomorrow

I googled tomorrow and what did I get?
A definition.
The day after today.
Not much.


My life is a series of minutes that move and stand still.
My life is full of surprises,
and I don't know's.


It's crazy, this walk I'm on.
You just never know what is going to upset the apple cart and send apples
scattering all over.
I'd try to pick them up but, they usually scatter so far and wide, I sit in amazement
that it happened at all.


Life is not the same.
I've said that before, but it never ceases to surprise, overwhelm and knock me
off my feet.
New ideas, new directions are not small potatoes.


I have been content to be in my own little corner in my own little house,
and when I'm asked to step out of this now familiar lifestyle,
it is huge.


How did I know that the mention of doing something new would upset my life like this?
I'm content living in my corner of the world...anything new is huge.
I started crying at the aspect of adding anything new to my life.
It's like I'm moving away...but I'm not.
I will never leave my son behind.
I will take Caleb with me wherever I go, whatever I do.


It's scary. I'll just say it, because it is.
I am not the person I was.
I don't know this person, and it's like I'm in a foreign land.
Maybe I did things in the past, but this person has never
done this - whatever it is.
It's a whole new experience, whatever it is.


I was unprepared for the rush of emotions that flooded my being.
I'm unfamiliar with me.
I'm unfamiliar with life as it is.
I'm unfamiliar with most everything.

I Can Because

I awaken to the darkness around me.
Like being covered with a heavy fleece blanket, I want to kick it off.


I wait a few minutes, and let the fleece of darkness settle in.
It is soft and comforting.
The world is not awake yet. There are no distractions.
My sobs lay silent on my pillow as I cry out to my Lord
with no words.
I want to say, "I can't."
I want to stop time, and go back to innocent days.
I want to cry out, and toss this blanket of darkness away,
but I know I can't.
My heart is wracked with chards of sorrow, and tomorrow looms ahead.
For now, I wrap up in this blanket and know that
even though I don't understand,
He does.


Lyrics of an old song pop into my mind -

"I wake up in the morning and I wonder
Why everything's the same as it was
I can't understand, no, I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does..."
(written by Arthur Kent and Sylvia Dee, recorded in 1962

by Skeeter Davis.)

Some days  I wake up like that.

Then, after the sobbing subsides,

I get up, pet Griz and let him out.

By that time, sunlight is breaking through, like cool, clean sheets.

It's a fresh, new day, filled with unknowns.

I don't know what news each day will bring.

Today I hold tightly to my Father's hand.

He has all things in control.

It's not easy for me to just hold on.

I want to know the why's of his plans.

I want to uncover the reasons.

Yet, I know, no matter what each day brings

his grace is sufficient.

He has proven that to me over and over.

I like to say it this way -

his grace is as big as we need it to be.

It will be as big as we need it to be, when we need it,

and not before.

Like manna.

The people in Moses' day couldn't stuff manna in their pockets for later.

It would spoil, rot, and just was not edible for that late night snack.

However, they always had plenty for each day.

The next day, there was manna - enough for another day.

So it is with grace.

It isn't there before you need it.

It's always there in abundance just when you need it.

This I know.

My devotional this morning -

"The future is like a huge mountain looming in front of you....You don't know what will happen to day, much less tomorrow....But I promise that if  I ask you to climb that mountain, I will give you everything you need to reach the top....And I will be right by your side every step of the way."

For he will order his angels to protect you wherever you go. (Psalm 91:11)

In your strength I can crush an army; with my God I can scale any wall. (Psalm 18:29)

For we live by faith and not by sight. (2 Corinthians 5:7)

They will lift you up in their hands so you will not strike your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91:12)

(Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.)

He sees the future.

He holds my hand.

He makes the sun to shine and the stars to twinkle.

He is faithful.

I can because He is my rock, my strength.

I can because He is sufficient.

Selah.




Copyright © 2017 Diane Homm. All Rights Reserved

Home For Christmas

Home for Christmas!
Every mother's wish.
It is the best gift ever to hear, "Hey, Mom. I'll be home for Christmas."


Through the years, as my five left the nest, I remember -


I so looked forward to Christmas break.
"When will you be home," I'd ask.
I was always so excited for that one in college, that one who moved away,
to come home for Christmas.
I'd listen for a car to pull into the driveway.
I'd rush to the door to welcome
hugs and luggage.
Home for Christmas!


Then, there was Caleb.
"When will you be home," I'd wonder - holding my breath.
I say God was so merciful and gracious to me.
Caleb got to come home most of the Christmases he was in the Marines.
We'd drive to the airport to pick him up.
I'd keep a sharp eye on the people coming up the escalator, looking for that
one who was a little taller than most, standing straight and tall.
When I'd see him, I'd rush over to hug him.
Home for Christmas!


There were Christmases without him - like when he was deployed.


It was during those times - especially that first deployment, that this song spoke to my heart.
When I'd hear "I'll Be Home For Christmas," I'd think of Caleb.

Caleb would tease me about Christmas.

"There better be snow," he'd say.

Christmases have come and gone, and my five have grown up.

It's not always possible for all of us to be together at Christmas,

but I know the love is there.

We talk, we send presents, we are a family.

And about Caleb?

I know. He'll be spending Christmas with Jesus.

I play "I'll Be Home For Christmas" on the piano for him, and sing it if I can.

Anytime I hear it, I think of all the Christmases we shared,

the Christmases when he was home.

Yes, Caleb. I know you'll be home for Christmas - in my heart, in my dreams.

Merry Christmas my son.
Till we meet again -

I love you.








Copyright © 2016 Diane Homm. All Rights Reserved.

The Message

It is fitting that the first Christmas without Caleb, a message to my heart would come through lyrics of an old Christmas carol. You see, Christmas time, Christmas carols have always been an important part of our lives.
That first Christmas,
it seemed everywhere I went, one song stood out - whether in a store, or on the radio at home or in my vehicle.
The lyrics are so familiar, but the message seemed to speak to me personally - from/about Caleb.

Silent Night

Silent Night, Holy Night,

All is calm, all is bright.

Round yon Virgin, Mother and child,

Holy infant, so tender and mild.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night, holy night - I could imagine that night so long ago, the world was at rest, all were sleeping except for the shepherds who felt a hushed, holy, unspeakable presence. Something was different about that night. Heaven had come to earth.

The message - to remember the wonderful presence of that very night is mine, a hushed, sweet holiness from heaven.

"Remember this Mom....it is always yours."

All is calm, all is bright - My son is living in a place where all is calm, serene, peaceful and joyous,

where there is brightness of celebration, love and a completeness only those who are there know.

The message - remember beyond this world there is an eternity, filled with peace, goodness, love and wonderous joy.

"I'm ok Mom."

Round yon Virgin, mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild - Thoughts of how Mary must have felt as she held Jesus for the first time, that awesome sense of love that a mother feels for her child, that unspeakable, glorious love.

The message - Ah, the memories of holding Caleb, so tiny, soft and innocent - such a miraculous, tender gift of life.

"I'm always with you, Mom. I will always be that gift in your life. I know you love me so very, very much."

Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace. - I know where Caleb is. He is living in heavenly peace. He is free from the confines of this world, the fallibility of this earth, more alive now that he is in a place of heavenly perfection, of heavenly peace.

The message - Because I know where Caleb is, that he is safe in that perfect place, I can have peace, even in the midst of missing him so much.

"Sleep in heavenly peace, Mom....let heaven bring you peace. Let it be your peace.

I love you."

I have always loved Silent Night, but now - every time I hear it, it is for me, for my heart.

It is my heavenly lullaby.

And yes - it still jumps out wherever I am. The message still fills me with hope - even through the tears.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Copyright © 2016 Diane Homm. All Rights Reserved.