Finding Joy Through My Tears

This blog is to share my journey with God through the heartache and pain of losing my son, Chandler. An outlet for me of sorts. Follow me on my road of grief to healing through the Lord.

Worn…

on June 3, 2014

God allowed me to see how much Chandler had grown in the last year of his life. He still carried around a lot of problems that no one should have to. I am so thankful that he had went from someone that claimed to not “believe in a God that he could not see” to “I wish I had known him through all of my issues.”

About a month before Chandler passed away, he led worship at Greg’s Dad’s church. He sang two songs that I will never forget. He sang:

Mighty to Save by Hillsong

Moving Forward by Israel Houghton

We talked about how music impacted his heart. That playing and singing worship music made his heart come alive. He said one day you just know. You know that God is real and active in your life. He said that he knew now that God was for him and spared him of so many things. And, that was very true.

I will not lie. I waited until after our conversation and then I went in my bedroom and I praised God for a very long time. I prayed prayers of praise and thankfulness. I thanked God for His faithfulness. I danced a little. I sang a little. I got on my knees and I thanked God for hearing my prayers. There was a point that I was devastated by Chandler’s behavior the decisions that he continued to make. But now, we were getting somewhere. My heart was so full of joy. That seems so far away for me. Like an entire lifetime ago.

There are several conversations that Chandler and I had in the weeks before he passed away. In some strange way, I think he knew. I think he knew that he wouldn’t be here long. He was struggling with issues that he simply didn’t know what to do.

About three weeks before he passed away, he was at my Mom’s. He called me around 11:30 at night. We talked that night until about 2:30. Praise God for those moments. Praise God that I got to just sit and listen. My boy was changing. He wanted different things. He was growing up.

We talked about his excitement about getting his acceptance letter to Pellissippi to begin studying Culinary Arts. He wanted to be a chef. He talked about the summer and how he just wanted to have fun. The time of his life. He said that he knew that everything would change when college began.

His heart was also very heavy about some very tough decisions that he had made. Choices that he made that he knew would be best for him and his future. They were very, very hard for him. These decisions would hurt people that he loved. But, he knew they were right. He said, “Mom, I just don’t know how to do this without others getting hurt. I never intended anyone to get hurt.” That was who he was. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. I know in my heart that he struggled with this in the weeks to come. The situation seemed to continue to escalate. It was out of control.

I look back and I would give ANYTHING if I had just stepped in. I dismissed it as normal teenage behavior. It was not normal. It was abusive on every level. He was so beaten down. He was miserable.

The morning of Saturday, June 22nd, he called me. He called me every morning including the weekends early. He was always an early riser. We had plans that day. Our sweet Carlee was celebrating her 1 year birthday. He told me that morning that he was tired. And, that he just wanted to come home with us from the party. He said he needed to get away. He had been at my Mom’s for a while. He said he was worn. He asked that I tell the girls not to make any plans that he would be home and he just wanted to be with us a little while. That made my heart happy.

I can’t even remember the timeline of the things that happened after that conversation. But, one thing I do know. He would not have told me to tell the girls to stay home if he never planned to be here. He called me several times before the unthinkable happened. He called me while I was at Target. I could sense the agitation. I could sense he was angry. He felt like he wasn’t going to make it to Carlee’s party. We talked through it and he seemed calm and was in route to the party.

Twenty minutes later he shot himself. How do you go from being on your way to a birthday party to being behind a rec center with a fatal gunshot wound? He begged to be left alone. I have saw some text messages that were sent to ask others to help him get out of there. He was angry. He was upset. He was in a hopeless state. He felt he would never just be left alone. I saw the texts for myself on his phone. He discharged all the bullets from that gun, or so he thought. He was prepared to prove a point that day. This is what it had come to. Trying to prove a point with a gun to his head. And, then the accidental shot. And, within 45 minutes I was by his side.

I don’t know that I will ever get over not being there when he needed me the most. I don’t know if I will ever be able to let go of the thoughts:

Did he wonder where I was? Did he just want me? His Dad? His Nannie? Was he scared? Did he realize what had happened?

The EMT’s assured him the whole way to the hospital that day that we were on our way. We would be with him soon. They comforted him so they could try and keep him calm. I will never be able to thank them enough for that. They told him how much we loved him. The nurse at the hospital called Greg and I from Chandler’s phone. She assured me she was keeping him calm and reassuring him that we would be there. We were coming. To just hold on. He did.

I haven’t spoken these words to another person. I felt I had to talk to these people who took care of my son when I could not be there. Grateful is not even a strong enough word to explain how I feel about these people.

I have written as much as I can today. I am leaving you with the lyrics to a song that remind me of how he must have felt that day. Love and Blessings, Brandi

Worn – Tenth Avenue North

I am tired, I am worn. My heart is heavy. From the work it takes to keep on breathing. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve let my hope fail. My soul feels crushed by the weight of this world. And, I know that you can give me rest. So, I cry out with all I have left.

Let me see redemption win. Let me know the struggle ends. That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn. I want to know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life.  And, all that’s dead inside can be reborn. Cause I’m worn.

I know I need to lift my eyes up. But, I’m too weak, life just won’t let up. And, I know that you can give me rest. So, I cry out with all that I have left.

Let me see redemption win. Let me know the struggle ends. That you can mend a heart that is frail and torn. I want to know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life. And, all that’s dead inside can be reborn. Because I’m worn.

My prayers are wearing thin. Yeah, I am worn, even before the day begins.  I am worn, I have lost my will to fight. I’m worn, so heaven and flood my eyes.

I’m worn.

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One response to “Worn…

  1. Cheri Spivey says:

    I think of you everyday. It inspires me the way you lean on our Father

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Brandi Trent

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Finding Joy Through My Tears

This blog is to share my journey with God through the heartache and pain of losing my son, Chandler. An outlet for me of sorts. Follow me on my road of grief to healing through the Lord.

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