My Journey

My name is Jamie Peterson, and I would like to share a few things about myself to better acquaint you with me. I come from a family of either musicians, poets, wood carvers, or journalists. I have written poetry since I was very little and was fortunate to attend a conservatory after high school. As life moved forward, I married and had the joy of raising four sons. For some years, training up the boys became my primary job, and writing had to become secondary.

My life journey did come with some ups and downs, and I went on to raise my sons by myself. As they got older, I had the opportunity to work for the airlines, which helped me to provide a substantial income. I became a Christian and dedicated my life to Jesus Christ at the age of 18 years old. For me, coming to the Lord was not a gradual change but a radical change. Because of some of my own life choices and the path my life took, I quickly came to know I needed God in my life.

As dark times crossed my path, I cried out in prayer for God to carry me when I wasn’t able to walk and to lead me in the direction I should go. He led me into deep prayer, years of intercession, and a birthing process I had never experienced before. Through my deep, intimate times of prayer, I began writing poetry again, and that led to songs straight from heaven.

My sons by this time were pretty well grown, and my last son was a senior in college. It was such a breath of fresh air just to know life had come this far now. I had begun to venture out and travel to different countries, which really gave me inspiration to write. I had been gearing up for my next phase in life and beginning to really enjoy my journey.

After I had returned home from my trip the following Wednesday, November 13th, I decided to drive up to see my eldest sons for an afternoon visit. Along my drive on just an impeccable day, I began feeling this weight in my spirit to pull over and write. My notebook and pen always accompany me, and so I began to write. I remember having trouble keeping up with my pen because the words were flowing so quickly. I tried to continue driving, but again, I had this urge to pull over and write. By the third time of trying to drive and having to pull over, I knew God was trying to tell me something. By the time I finally arrived, I had written an entire poem like a song. I had texted my son and told him I needed to sit alone in my car and try to decipher what this was all about. It was so heavy on my spirit that I began weeping almost uncontrollably.

All I could understand at the time was that my eldest son’s stepmother had relapsed with leukemia and maybe wasn’t going to make it to remission this time. We are all Christians and very close friends, so I had my son read it and said I would keep it to give to his dad in time. The craziest thing was that every time I reread it, it felt like a letter from God, sent from his heart to mine. My son told me to hold on to this dearly because God was definitely trying to speak to me and possibly prepare my heart for something coming.

The following Saturday, November 16, we drove up with my son Jesse and my college son Jordan, who was so persistent about going along to visit Jesse’s dad and stepmother in the hospital. We had a memorable visit while in their company and even brought her a malt from Culver’s, hoping she would be able to enjoy it. My collage boy, Jordan, became overwhelmed with tears because we were not certain this could be our last time with Jessica’s stepmother while here on earth. After our visit, we stopped at Jordan’s favorite pub for some burgers and drinks before we dropped him off for another week of college life. We then dropped my other son off and headed home.

The very next day, on November 17, after we had enjoyed a pleasant Sunday at home, my world quickly took a turn that would change the rest of my life forever. My senior in college, who carried an almost 4.0 grade average, studied abroad in Australia, and was just about to walk across the stage for his graduation, had been found unresponsive in his room while studying for finals. My baby boy, the joy of my life, who had this contagious personality and was driven to change the world, took his journey home to heaven.

From this moment on, my heart and life came to a complete stop, as I had known them to be. I had heard it said that to bury a parent is very difficult, but to bury your child is something a person’s mind, especially a mother’s, simply cannot comprehend. The oxygen in the air I once breathed into my lungs was gone, and time as I once knew it was no more. The purpose I once found in this life was void, empty, and silent. I no longer could partake of things I had before, and the strength to watch my remaining sons suffer in their grief and agony shook me to my core. I had nothing left to give and still somehow had to breathe.

From the moment he left, I only remember literally crawling across my bedroom carpet because I didn’t have the strength to stand. Everything I once knew was gone, and with that, so much of the old me in me was gone too. On the second day after Jordan took his journey, I looked up from my place on my bedroom floor, and in the Spirit, I saw a cover with his picture on it. I remember barely having the strength to hold a pen while words kept flowing right from heaven into my spirit. I could hardly keep up with the pace at which the words were coming down for me to write in my notebook. I could feel his spirit moving through me, and I was able to hear, write, and complete a song within such a short period of time. The purpose I saw for my life was taken away that very day. My life plans, my past agenda, became just that—the past.

Now, over the years, and as each new day brings much healing, the Holy Spirit is giving me a newfound purpose for my life. Though it will always be just one day at a time, I am learning to trust more each day in this mighty, powerful God that I do know. I continue to pray and seek him to help me live out his purpose and complete the gifts and callings of my own life.

I have three beautiful sons, whom I adore with all my heart, and they all have wonderful personalities and unique gifts of their own. I am learning that life is so precious and that one child can never replace another.

We all hold a unique place in time, and when Jordan left, that part of my heart left with him. I can never bring my son Jordan, nor his life as I once knew it, back to me again. Where once I held him in my arms, I now hold his every memory deep in my heart. I will always be his mommy, and he will forever be my little boy. I feel his presence in every poem that I write and in every song that I am given to write. As much as my heart aches for him, I have come to the place of wishing him his freedom. I want nothing less than for him to fly with the angels and live his new life so free. I hold on to the knowledge that one day, he and I will fly together, freely.

I am trying not to see my life through my own human eyes anymore. Instead, with every God-given word that comes into my spirit, I will continue to write on the pages of my notebooks. My wish is that each poem, in its own perfect time, will someday become its own song. And with every breath that I breathe, along with each new day I am given, I will bring glory to the kingdom of God.