Joy and Sadness

For those of you who don't play Words with Friends, it's a game, like Scrabble, where you have tiles that are used to make words.  A couple of nights ago, I went into one of my games and those were my tiles.  JOY IS BK.  That's my boy, Brandon Kashef, known as BK to so very many people.  I looked and looked at those tiles, totally amazed.  I doubt I'll ever see that combination of tiles in my tray, again, and I know it's not a coincidence. 

I haven't really asked for "signs" regarding Brandon.  Most of the time (99.5%), I am secure in knowing where he is and that he's happy, much happier than anyone on earth could possibly be.  I am human, though, and I've had a couple of moments where I've cried out to God, telling Him I just need to know for sure.  I know his heart would break for mine and the thought of him being sad for all of us is too much.  Heaven has no sadness, though, so I have to believe that he's content just walking with the Lord, until we meet, again.  I'm still not totally sure how to view those tiles; he is joy, like living in complete joy or that's my joy-BK.  I guess either way works, but the point is, it was really quite something to see and such a neat thing I was given.  God cares so much about us, if it takes game tiles to reassure us, He meets us where we are.

Conversely, I miss my boy so much, I practically ache from head to toe, inside and out.  I found myself wondering today, if someone told me that I would lose Brandon at 19, and I had a choice, would I have still had kids?  The truth is, I don't think I know the answer to that.  I think that, yes, I probably would've.  I was always meant to have children, something I knew from the time I was a teensy child, myself.  I think I would've said yes because I couldn't have known how horrific the pain of losing a child could be, never having experienced it before.  Were I to see into that pain, though, I think I'd have said no.  Having my kids is one of the few things I don't regret in this life and nothing I'd ever want to take back, but reconciling that happiness, that completeness, with the deepest, most wretched pain in the universe is impossible. 

And, I'm still struggling with God's sovereignty.  He knew.  He's been everywhere I've been.  Why couldn't He send a messenger to tell me something, to warn me, to do anything?  Knowing He was going to allow Brandon to go home, why didn't he make absolutely sure that Baze was home for his 19th and last birthday here?  I absolutely know that Brandon was spared from the heartache that goes on in this life.  Somehow, God decided that what he had to do was done in those 19 years and it was ok for him to go home.  That sovereignty I trust in wholeheartedly, I just don't  understand why he went so suddenly, no chance to say goodbye, no final moments together.  A blessing, also, that I didn't have to see my son taken from my house in a bodybag breaks my heart that my boy died without his mama.  Brandon is happy, happy, experiencing a joy like we can't fathom with our earthly minds, but I just want him back.  We can go home together, later.