I can only imagine

As a child, my mom and dad told me that if you have Jesus as your Saviour, when you die you will go to heaven. He will be there to welcome you to his kingdom. I believed it then, and I still believe it. I wondered at times what heaven would look like and what I could do there. I wondered what Jesus looked like. But it was never something I thought a lot about.

Until April 9, 2010. The day my 16 year old brother died in a car accident.

Almost instantly, my thoughts and questions of heaven surfaced and I had to find answers. I cried out to God, even to Martin. I needed to know that Martin was for sure there, in heaven, and he was okay. I needed to know what he was doing and if he could see me. I needed to see him smile. (Now I actually have an image of Martin in my head of his face and he has the biggest smile. I am so thankful for that.) I reached for the Bible first, but it was too much to undertake. I was searching for very straight forward, juvenile like answers about heaven. I was so thirsty for knowledge and to know more about where my brother was going to be from now on. 

I can"t remember how I got the book, maybe my mom(more than likely) got it for us. I read Heaven is for Real and my mind and my heart were slowly but at ease.

It is about a young boy's trip to heaven and back. It is precious and simple. The words describing heaven came alive and helped me get a mental picture of heaven. It was exactly what I longed for during this difficult time. I wanted to be able to picture my brother in heaven and see him in all his glory with Jesus and the angels. I wanted to know if he would grow older and if his allergies would still bother him. I wanted to know who he would hang out with and what would they do. I wanted to know that he was okay. After reading this book and talking to friends and family, my doubts and worries turned in to delight and peace.

So now when I imagine entering the gates of heaven I see my brother waiting  for me with arms outstretched smiling. Sometimes I find myself more excited, in a sense, to see my brother in heaven than Jesus. Is that terrible to feel? I want to spend eternity with both Martin and Jesus but seeing my brother again puts a smile on my face.

I know my time will come. In His time. I will see Martin again. And we will both be smiling.

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one more

I have been thinking about my brother a lot lately. More than usual. I think about him everyday since he died April 9, 2010. But the past weeks have been, just, different. My memories are more vivid. My pain has resurfaced itself. The longing to see his smile, hear his laugh, and hug his neck is unbearable at times. I hate to think about all the talks we won't be having about stuff like friends, girls and where he would be going to college. It's just not fair!

What would have been? How would our lives be different with him still here?

Luke has been sharing memories about what he and Martin did together. I know Luke misses him very much.

One more day. One more 'I love you'. One more game of Apples to Apples. Just a moment. To see his face. To know. To not hurt anymore. These are the things I truly want for Christmas.  

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fifteen days

We are approaching the one year mark or one year anniversary or whatever you are suppose to call it, of Martin's death. I am in disbelief that it has been a year. I am in disbelief that he is gone. I am in disbelief that the world around me can go on normal and some days it feels like I am not moving at all. Time goes by way too fast. Time. Lost time. Wasted time.  Happy times. Sad times. Oh that word. Time. A pierce in my side.

My anxiety levels are high these days. Senses are heightened. I have no idea what to expect the days leading to April 9th. All I know is what I feel right now and how I felt the days after Martin's accident. Will I feel the same as I did then? It's crazy because we had no idea that Martin was going to die that day. We carried on that day like we were going to see him again. And of course he carried on that day like he was going to see tomorrow. All it took was a few seconds for it all to change. It is so hard to even express in written word my thoughts. Try to stay with me.

So now we are living our new normal. None of us are used to it or even good at it really.

I can't stop or even slow down April 9th from coming. I don't know how I will feel or what we will do that day. I wish I could control my emotions and the thoughts swimming around in my head. But that ain't gonna happen. There is no way to be prepared or brase myself...is there?

I didn't think so.

 

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clinging to my faith

As many of you know, my little brother died tragically in a car accident April 9, 2010. He was 16. It has been, and continues to be, a difficult time for our family. We have cried. We have called out to God in agony. We have been silenced by our affliction. We look to each other for support. We look to God for answers.

People grieve in their own way. People grieve in their own time. My grieving journey looks different than my mothers. My mother's journey looks different from my fathers. My kids have their own journey they are on.  It is a process. There are days of sadness. There are days of silence. There are moments of anger and anguish that drop you to your knees. There are times that an emotion comes out of nowhere and hits you like a ton of bricks. You could be anywhere. In your car, washing dishes, at church, at a birthday party, sitting on the couch reading to your daughter. It doesn't matter. Grief will find you.

In the little reading I have done on grief, it has been said that so many who lose loved ones become angry at God and sometimes even walk away from their faith. I totally get that. As I said, people's grieving journeys are different. Like a snowflake, no two are the same. And I am certainly no expert on grieving. I only know my own journey and emotional battles.

For me, clinging to my faith is a necessity right now. It is my comfort blanket. I need it to survive, to move from day to day. I have always had my faith but never needed it to consume me as I do now. Right after Martin's death, I remember thinking what it would be like going through this if I didn't have my faith in Jesus Christ and heaven. It paralyzes me to think that there are people who lose a loved one and don't believe they will see them again in heaven. How could you go on? How could you heal from that hurt? I don't think it would be possible for me. I know that Martin is in heaven!(okay, here come the tears!) I know that he sits with Jesus! I know I will see him and hug him and laugh with him again! I know that if I didn't believe in life after death with Jesus Christ then I would have surely crumbled by now. I would not be able to get out of bed each morning.   

Just because I believe I will see Martin again, doesn't make time here on this earth without him easy all the time. I miss him. I miss his smile and his laugh. I miss the way he said "Jess". He was the only one who called me that. I miss seeing him clean the kitchen. I miss the debates and the family game nights. I am heart broken that we won't be taking him to college or seeing him get his first job. I will miss not be able to give him girl advice or help plan his wedding with his fiance. I would really like to hear his thoughts on the oil spill as well! I am sure he has given an earful to God!

There are times that I question God and His reason for taking Martin from us. I am never satisfied with an answer. His name, Martin Samuel, means "Mighty Warrior asked of God". God must have something far greater for Martin to do than this earth could ever warrant. I am comforted by this thought over and over again. I am clinging to my faith for as long as it takes to see Martin again.  

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seeking signs

I have been struggling the past few days. Mostly with Martin's death, but other things are weighing heavy as well. For those of you that do not know, my little brother, Martin, was killed tragically in a car accident April 9, 2010. He was 16. Our family has been ripped to shreds. Our hearts beaten and broken. Our spirits shaken. We cling to the Truth, for without our faith in Jesus Christ, we would have surely crumbled and withered away by now.

I think about Martin a lot. I look up to the sky and wonder what he is doing. Can he see me? Is he talking to God at this very moment? I seek signs that Martin is in fact in heaven. Yes, sometimes I have doubts. My mind plays tricks on me. Satan enters and tries to lure me to the dark side. But there is no place for me there. My place is secure right here, digging through the truth and following the Light. I know where Martin is. But I am human. And those human thoughts and doubts chill me to the bone.

I have been crying  a lot. I went to church Sunday by myself and cried. I felt my warm tears move down my cheeks. My heart sank as I wept for many losses in my life. Some gone forever. Others I hope to find and make anew.  

Time. It is a funny thing. Unmoving. It is something Martin doesn't have to worry about any longer. Lucky! Martino, if you are listening, I love you and hope to play Apples to Apples with you again one day soon!

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Martin Farrell

Updated:

CORRECTION - I stated that the name Martin means 'mighty warrior asked of God.' The name Martin actually means 'mighty warrior' and the name Samuel means 'asked of God.' So Martin Samuel means 'mighty warrior asked of God.' I'm glad we got that straight.

original post: 

I haven't been able to blog about it. I haven't been able to Tweet about it. I figure maybe now is the time to start trying. Maybe it will help. Maybe it won't. It's not that I don't think about writing or even really want to sit down and write. I honestly am not sure how to write about it or what to write about it. And would anyone want to hear? My thoughts are scattered and I have a hard time staying focused even today. Stay with me...

I just looked at my last post to see how long it had been since I blogged. Ironically enough, my last post is dated April 9. It was a Friday. It will be three weeks tomorrow. My little brother, Martin Samuel Farrell, was killed in a car accident Friday, April 9. He was only 16 years old. I still cry everyday. Most days I weep from the pain and loss and helplessness. My energy is low and my nerves are high.

I spoke at Martin's funeral. I felt like I needed to. I felt I had to. For myself, for my Mom and Dad, for my husband and four children and for Martin. Here is what I said.

Keep our family in your prayers as we face this tragic time. It came so abruptly. So forcefully. Our hearts are broken and our normal has been twisted and shredded.

I know in my heart Martin is sitting with Jesus. I know in my heart Martin is home. I know in my heart I will see Martin again. 

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