I opened my eyes on Christmas morning and pulled back the curtain to look outside. Under the cloudy sky, the world looked black and white. Even the red birdfeeder appeared exceptionally muted and almost colorless. I laid there a moment, expecting to soon hear Kai's click-clicking toenails on the kitchen floor as he waited to go outside. Then I remembered that my Kai was gone and I laid my head down on the pillow and cried.
I didn't have the luxury of laying there in my sorrow. There were people coming who were expecting a Christmas brunch. As I prepared the food, I realized that I had neither the energy or some of the ingredients that I needed to fix what was on the menu plan. Sadly, I didn't even care. Not having French Breakfast Puffs or dinner rolls paled in comparison to not having Kai to share them with. The thought of food made me feel like throwing up. I felt like I was living in a black and white movie.
Kai loved to lay on the couch by the Christmas tree. The different colors would reflect off of his white coat and it almost appeared as if he was part of the decorations. I would catch him gazing at the tree and could never quite figure out if he could see the colors or if he was wondering if I had brought him a potty tree into the house since his least favorite activity on earth was going outside or anywhere for that matter. He was happy to stay inside, going between his bedroom bed and the couch and playing with his box of toys we kept under the t.v. Mostly he just wanted to be wherever I was and followed me literally everywhere.
The family showed up and we did our usual brunch with gift opening. No one mentioned Kai, in fact, some of my grandkids didn't even realize he was gone until a day later, but Kai was all I could think of and I forced myself to act excited, for the grandkid's sake. But inside my heart, there is a Kai-sized hole which feels as if most of my heart is missing and what little remains just hurts with an inexpressible pain that I can't imagine will ever go away. Experience tells me it will, eventually, but I don't believe I will ever go a day without thinking of him and missing him.
My inner critic scolded me and I felt a little guilty that on Christmas, the day that we celebrate the coming of the Redeemer of all mankind, I found little expressable joy. My heart was shrouded in grief, my emotions dulled except for the unbearable pain that I felt. I honestly think the Lord understood. He knows my heart. He gave Kai to me because He knew I needed the kind of love that only Kai could get to me. Surely He understood the pain I felt at losing him.
One of my Christmas traditions is to take one aspect of the Christmas story and focus on it in scripture. This year, I hadn't picked one because I had been focused on helping Kai in his failing health. My days were filled with medication, ointments, and internet research as I searched for ways to help him. I spent as much time as I could with him, often even sleeping with him on his bed or on the couch. I knew he was uncomfortable and I could bearly stand the thought of it. I was willing to do whatever I could to help him, to keep him healthy, to have him for as much time as was possible. As I sat on Christmas day pondering my loss in light of the true meaning of Christmas, Isaiah 61 came to mind.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, Because the Lord anointed me To bring good news to the humble; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, To proclaim release to captives And freedom to prisoners;
I had spent the last two days asking the Lord to help my broken heart, knowing that He was the only one that could give me what I needed to continue on. Darrell tried to help but he was hurting just as much as I was and we mostly just held each other and cried together.
Kai came to me at very dark period of my life. Because of some things that had happened, I felt totally alone, abandoned, friendless, and I was unwilling to trust anyone. It was a miracle that I was able to own Kai at all, even though I had wanted to for nearly 6 years. When he came to me, he was not in good health and I busied myself doing whatever was necessary, sparing no expense to see to it that he was healthy and happy. I think Kai realized what I was doing and in return he loved me so fiercely that it made me believe that maybe, just maybe, it might be possible to trust again. He was God's way of giving me hope and answering prayers that I had prayed in a practical way. And all the while that I was helping Kai heal, he was helping me heal. That is why he was so special to me.
I told one of my pastors that I wished there really was a rainbow bridge because it would give me comfort to know that Kai was still somewhere. His response was so sweet and brought me some comfort. "Well," he said, "the Bible really doesn't say much about this but we do know there are animals in Heaven. We don't know how they got there." And that made sense to me. If God had given me Kai, God could take him back.
When my oldest daughter was small, she had a stuffed bunny given to her as an infant that she was extremely attached to. And being the Godly mother that I was, I would share with her about the Lord returning and taking us to Heaven and how glorious that will be. One day she burst into tears and asked, "When Jesus comes back to take us to Heaven, will "Bunny" go to?" Something I heard from an old Pentecostal preacher came to mind and I told her that if she needed Bunny in Heaven, he would be there because God promised that we would always have everything that we need. I know I won't need Kai in Heaven, but it sure would be wonderful if he was there. It's nice to hope.
And I guess that is my Christmas lesson for this year. Because of the fierce love God has for us, Jesus came into a hurting world that was shrouded in darkness, lost, grieving for lack of hope, and He brought healing and hope to mankind. In Him we find all that we need. He is our rainbow bridge, our promise from God that we are not without hope. He is the Redeemer who has saved us and brought us the promise that we will live with God forever.
I have so much to thank Kai for , but oh, so much more to thank God for.
Merry Belated Christmas!
I didn't have the luxury of laying there in my sorrow. There were people coming who were expecting a Christmas brunch. As I prepared the food, I realized that I had neither the energy or some of the ingredients that I needed to fix what was on the menu plan. Sadly, I didn't even care. Not having French Breakfast Puffs or dinner rolls paled in comparison to not having Kai to share them with. The thought of food made me feel like throwing up. I felt like I was living in a black and white movie.
Kai loved to lay on the couch by the Christmas tree. The different colors would reflect off of his white coat and it almost appeared as if he was part of the decorations. I would catch him gazing at the tree and could never quite figure out if he could see the colors or if he was wondering if I had brought him a potty tree into the house since his least favorite activity on earth was going outside or anywhere for that matter. He was happy to stay inside, going between his bedroom bed and the couch and playing with his box of toys we kept under the t.v. Mostly he just wanted to be wherever I was and followed me literally everywhere.
The family showed up and we did our usual brunch with gift opening. No one mentioned Kai, in fact, some of my grandkids didn't even realize he was gone until a day later, but Kai was all I could think of and I forced myself to act excited, for the grandkid's sake. But inside my heart, there is a Kai-sized hole which feels as if most of my heart is missing and what little remains just hurts with an inexpressible pain that I can't imagine will ever go away. Experience tells me it will, eventually, but I don't believe I will ever go a day without thinking of him and missing him.
My inner critic scolded me and I felt a little guilty that on Christmas, the day that we celebrate the coming of the Redeemer of all mankind, I found little expressable joy. My heart was shrouded in grief, my emotions dulled except for the unbearable pain that I felt. I honestly think the Lord understood. He knows my heart. He gave Kai to me because He knew I needed the kind of love that only Kai could get to me. Surely He understood the pain I felt at losing him.
One of my Christmas traditions is to take one aspect of the Christmas story and focus on it in scripture. This year, I hadn't picked one because I had been focused on helping Kai in his failing health. My days were filled with medication, ointments, and internet research as I searched for ways to help him. I spent as much time as I could with him, often even sleeping with him on his bed or on the couch. I knew he was uncomfortable and I could bearly stand the thought of it. I was willing to do whatever I could to help him, to keep him healthy, to have him for as much time as was possible. As I sat on Christmas day pondering my loss in light of the true meaning of Christmas, Isaiah 61 came to mind.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, Because the Lord anointed me To bring good news to the humble; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, To proclaim release to captives And freedom to prisoners;
I had spent the last two days asking the Lord to help my broken heart, knowing that He was the only one that could give me what I needed to continue on. Darrell tried to help but he was hurting just as much as I was and we mostly just held each other and cried together.
Kai came to me at very dark period of my life. Because of some things that had happened, I felt totally alone, abandoned, friendless, and I was unwilling to trust anyone. It was a miracle that I was able to own Kai at all, even though I had wanted to for nearly 6 years. When he came to me, he was not in good health and I busied myself doing whatever was necessary, sparing no expense to see to it that he was healthy and happy. I think Kai realized what I was doing and in return he loved me so fiercely that it made me believe that maybe, just maybe, it might be possible to trust again. He was God's way of giving me hope and answering prayers that I had prayed in a practical way. And all the while that I was helping Kai heal, he was helping me heal. That is why he was so special to me.
I told one of my pastors that I wished there really was a rainbow bridge because it would give me comfort to know that Kai was still somewhere. His response was so sweet and brought me some comfort. "Well," he said, "the Bible really doesn't say much about this but we do know there are animals in Heaven. We don't know how they got there." And that made sense to me. If God had given me Kai, God could take him back.
When my oldest daughter was small, she had a stuffed bunny given to her as an infant that she was extremely attached to. And being the Godly mother that I was, I would share with her about the Lord returning and taking us to Heaven and how glorious that will be. One day she burst into tears and asked, "When Jesus comes back to take us to Heaven, will "Bunny" go to?" Something I heard from an old Pentecostal preacher came to mind and I told her that if she needed Bunny in Heaven, he would be there because God promised that we would always have everything that we need. I know I won't need Kai in Heaven, but it sure would be wonderful if he was there. It's nice to hope.
And I guess that is my Christmas lesson for this year. Because of the fierce love God has for us, Jesus came into a hurting world that was shrouded in darkness, lost, grieving for lack of hope, and He brought healing and hope to mankind. In Him we find all that we need. He is our rainbow bridge, our promise from God that we are not without hope. He is the Redeemer who has saved us and brought us the promise that we will live with God forever.
I have so much to thank Kai for , but oh, so much more to thank God for.
Merry Belated Christmas!
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