Once when I was driving through a small town cemetery I came across a grave with a teenaged boy’s picture on it. His face was there, in the small oval frame, smiling on picture day. On the tombstone, someone had lovingly placed a chocolate Yoo-hoo drink and a honey bun. Maybe the boy’s mother, still lost without her child to care for, kept her routine of buying her son’s favorite breakfast and taking it to him every morning. It was a scene that my mind instantly captured, a sight that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to erase from my memory, a clear visual of heartache, love, and loss.
And every time that memory surfaces, I grieve with this mother and I mourn for her son, whom I never knew. I think about how God is the only power who could get me through something like that. I pray. For the mother, for my own children, and for strength to face whatever the future holds. Then I remember that my only job is to trust Him. And His only job is…everything else.