I miss his voice the most … and his hugs.
It has been almost 14 months since our son Chris went home to heaven, and in that time, I have missed everything about him. I miss his face, his laughter, his silly antics, his daily texts, his anointed devotional writings, and just his presence in my life.
But there are two specific things I long for more and more each day.
For one, I miss his all-embracing bear hugs that enveloped me with pure love. Now. maybe it’s not just a boy-momma thing, but sons seem to come into the world already knowing exactly how to hug. Both of my boys were fiercely independent and strong, but they also managed to find a way to always love me through their hugs.
Whether it was a desperate clinging hug around my knees as toddlers, a quick side hug as they ran through while playing with their friends, or a smothering, weighty bear hug as they exited a high school ball field, they always, always, always hugged me. And I loved and cherished each of those precious hugs.
But now, I am missing half of my daily allotment of boy hugs. And to be honest, even though I know I will hug my son again one day – because of God’s gift of salvation through His Son Jesus Christ – the truth is, I often ache to get just one more hug from Chris right now.
That ache has taught me very quickly to appreciate the hugs I do get – and to hug harder. In fact, the young men that Chris helped coach on our high school baseball team literally lined up after every game to give me a hug. Maybe they saw Chris always hug me like that after games, or maybe they just instinctively knew as boys that this momma needed a hug.
Whatever the case, those hugs are treasures to me. They are like gifts straight from the throne of God! And somehow, each of those hugs reminds me that Chris will be waiting for me after the last inning of this game called life – waiting right behind my precious Savior to give me a long-awaited hug.
So, yes, I really miss those hugs from Chris! But somehow, I get by – through the help of lots of hugs from the players and students he loved so much.
But the ache to hear his voice is a whole other story!
No matter how many times I replay videos of Chris and hear his distinctive voice that I loved for 37 years, it’s just not the same. I long to have a real conversation with him. I want to pick up the phone and hear him call me “Momma” in a voice that no one else on earth ever had.
I want to listen to him talk about his family, his students, his players … His God. I want to hear him whisper to me one more time that he loves me. And I want to talk with him about the Bible or a new worship song he found for me to listen to. I want to hear him encourage me – and even admonish me for a lack of faith in God in tough times, the very faith that his dad and I shared with him.
During one of the last deep conversations we had, Chris took my hand, looked me in my eyes, and asked me in that straightforward tone of voice that he alone possessed, “Momma, do you believe all the things you taught me about God my whole life?”
As I tearfully nodded, he added softly, “Then act like it. Get it together and act like you believe!”
So, I do. Every single day, I get up and surrender my broken heart to God, believing that He will bring beauty from these ashes of grief. And every single day, God carries me, loves me, and comforts me with His Holy Spirit, His Word, and the help of His children.
One of those gifts of comfort came via my pastor from an ancient Old Testament story, an unlikely passage about Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar.
Now, this story kind of sounds like a juicy tabloid tale, if the truth be told. And just like today’s modern-day social media scandals, this story also came about because of sin.
Sarah had been assured that God would give her a child, but she thought her biological clock was pretty much out of time. So, she manipulated her husband’s desire for an heir, and she took advantage of her maidservant in a most grievous, abusive manner.
The result of this blatant sin was an illegitimate son named Ishmael. But all was well … until Sarah gave birth to her own son Isaac – the legitimate legacy God had promised (and delivered) to Abraham.
Of course, Sarah began to despise Ishmael, the very thing she had gained through her sins of doubt, manipulation, and abuse. So eventually, Abraham acquiesced once again to his wife’s desires and sent Hagar and his illegitimate child Ishmael into the wilderness.
Genesis 21:14-16 (KJV) shares the story of this banishment:
And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and took bread, and a bottle of water, and gave it unto Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, and the child, and sent her away: and she departed, and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba.
And the water was spent in the bottle, and she cast the child under one of the shrubs.
And she went, and sat her down over against him a good way off, as it were a bow shot: for she said, Let me not see the death of the child. And she sat over against him, and lift up her voice, and wept.
Why yes, Hagar wept! What mother would not weep, wail, and pray aloud, begging God to stop the impending death of her only child?
But as you ponder Hagar’s cries for mercy, notice the next verse (17):
And God heard the voice of the lad; and the angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto her, What aileth thee, Hagar? fear not; for God hath heard the voice of the lad where he is.
Did you get that?
Hagar was the one lifting her voice and crying out to God, but we read (not just once but twice) that it was “the voice of the lad” that God heard and answered.
A mother cried, but God heard her cries from the voice of her son! And not only that, but God also rescued Hagar and her son and made a great nation out of him as well.
Wow, I cannot tell you how that comforts my aching heart.
Now, I am no theologian or a learned pastor, and I may not be able to exegete this passage proficiently enough to please everyone who reads this blog.
But here’s what I do know: As I continue to cry out to God in my current time of trouble, I am reminded and comforted by the fact that God somehow tied Hagar’s cries to the voice of her child Ishmael. So I take heart in knowing that long ago, God answered the cries of one momma through the voice of her son.
And get this! According to Revelation 8:3-4, each of my earthly-voiced, momma prayers rose as incense to the altar of God. So did Chris’, so did yours, and so did each prayer ever voiced by every saint of God.
That tells me that even though I cannot hear Chris’ voice right this moment, I know God did – and He still does. For Chris is alive forevermore with the One who conquered death, hell, and the grave.
So, as I cry out for strength in this valley of grief and longing, I pray that even now, God is still hearing my prayers through the voice of my son.
What a precious thought! What a precious sound!
