Motorhoming for Mason

Grief is a lonely road. This painful and unplanned journey is dark much of the time. It’s long and in most ways, never-ending.

But this lonely road has many stops along the way. Many moments of introspection, of looking back, of looking forward. It’s been an intentional road for me. With only one destination at the end: eternity. And all along this highway of grief, I feel the Lord has given me scenic pull-offs. Stops where I can see his beauty. What he’s doing with Mason’s story. 

Because Mason’s story is a good one.

In this painful valley of the sudden death of a child, God’s light has brought pinpricks of hope for dark and suffering hearts. I’ve heard about major life transformations after our loss. Friends and strangers have experienced Jesus in a new way because of Mason’s life. Hundreds of children in India have been rescued from unimaginable horror and find hope and love at Mason’s Place. God is doing wonderful things and this truth helps soften the sharp edge of pain that stabs at my heart every day of this life.

And now, our family is on this Motorhoming for Mason adventure. 

Mason was a lively and fun-loving kid. He was unique and fearless and hilarious. One of his most unusual obsessions was motorhomes. As a 3-year-old boy, it was even his nickname. He wouldn’t answer to anything else. (So odd. And slightly embarrassing. He would actually introduce himself as “Motorhome.”)

Fortunately, he outgrew this weird stage and then went by the name Moose. But he still loved motorhomes. Every night Mason used to pray, “And please help us save up enough money to buy a motorhome trailer.” (Literally. Every night.)

So here we are, 6 years later, living his dream. 

Or really, the answer to his prayers. When I stop and look at the big story the Lord is writing through all of this, I see something more grand and beautiful than I ever thought possible.

I remember back when Mason would pray these prayers, thinking it would be sweet if we did have a trailer someday. It promised fun family memories and great experiences. I prayed that prayer right along with him.

But now I look back and see a different picture. A gracious and sovereign God was writing a story even then, back when he knew the chapters to come were dark and scary ones, whose theme didn’t appear to be one of answered prayer.

But God was giving Mason an excitement for what would one day become our life. That when my spunky little 3-year-old boy wanted to actually be a motorhome, God was placing a passion on his heart for a taste of what he had in store for us.

So now we are Motorhoming for Mason. Living a dream of his back when his bright eyes and deep laughter filled our lives. Back when life was simpler. Those days when I blissfully believed death wouldn’t ever visit my home and grief wouldn’t press down so relentlessly upon my heart. A time when heavy loss wouldn’t taint our future and make it just so, so hard even to breathe.

The loss still taints everything. It’s still heavy. Some days unbearably so.

But living parallel to the loss is hope. And this dream of Mason’s keeps us looking forward to eternity. To what really matters.

Motorhoming for Mason helps us live more purposefully. In many ways.

• Anthony works with Hope Partners International whose mission is rescuing children and transforming lives and communities. Mason’s Place, part of Hope Partners, was established in India shortly after Mason died. One of Anthony’s many responsibilities is sharing at churches along our travels and building partnerships with those who want to join the mission of rescuing children.

• We also see our travels as an opportunity to share Mason’s story and the promise we have in Christ. It is beautiful to see how God continues to write hope and redemption over so much loss and despair. Mason’s story didn’t end when his heart stopped beating that dark September day. His story is still being written and we pray we can be faithful in sharing it.

• And of course, for our family. It’s such a gift to be able to live purposefully with my kids. Shred many of life’s distractions. Embrace the adventure, the slower paced life, the new relationships God brings us. It’s certainly not easy. There are quite a few of us in a very small space and we are unfortunately very selfish sinners. But the experiences are rich and life-shaping and there is no shortage of teachable, humbling and character-building moments. And bonus: these memories will last a lifetime.

I am so grateful to live this experience as a family. So humbled that we would have the opportunity to Motorhome for Mason and continue to live the legacy God is writing through his life. 

Burying a child is nothing a person ever signs up for. And if I could go back, I’d rewrite my story. There wouldn’t be ambulance rides and cemetery visits. I’d wipe out all those tears and erase the sleepless nights and re-insert my children’s happy innocence. I’d pick a life without pain and loss and devastating grief.

But I sometimes wonder if that life would have such beautiful clarity for eternity. If I would need these same overwhelming amounts of hope to breathe each day. If I’d still see Jesus’ hand in all the big and all the little ways over every part of my life. 

I’m not so sure I would. I do know that God is writing a pretty amazing story and I want my part to be lived with purpose. That my grief and my pain will be surrendered to the perfect author who writes the best stories of hope.

So as we Motorhome for Mason, I pray this is one more chapter God uses to make eternity a little bit brighter. That maybe it will look a little different because my son once prayed a prayer God answered in ways I never could have imagined.