I was listening to a pastor on YouTube a few days ago and as he got started speaking he said he had so many places he’d like to go with his sermon that he knew he was going to “butcher” it. I chuckled to myself, knowing that is how I feel about writing most of the time. I rarely have a specific goal in regards to sharing on my blog. So here I go, hoping I don’t butcher it too badly.
My oldest daughter/child turned 40 last week. As her birthday approached I found myself shaking my head in wonder at where the time has gone. How has 40 years passed by so quickly? I remember the day she was born like it was a few weeks ago, not 40 years ago. When our family got together to celebrate her I told her I was thinking I’d write her a letter, telling her stories of her birth and childhood she may not have heard before. And I will do this…..soon! I was considering how I’d start her letter as I lay in bed a few nights ago trying to go to sleep and my thoughts drifted back to 41 years ago at the end of 3 years of trying to conceive a child, unsuccessfully.
There was a general doctrine in the church we were attending at that time in our lives that taught we were to “stand in faith” for things we desired. I wasn’t entirely sure about this, as I didn’t really see this teaching in the Scripture. But I tried my best to pray and believe for a child. I struggled with this type of praying and at the same time wrestled with the delayed answer. Toward the end of this 3 year period in my life I began listening to another type of doctrinal teaching that suggested we “wait on God”. This rang true in my spirit and I ceased wrestling with God for what I wanted and yielded to Him the best I could. A better way to say this might be I surrendered my will to Him and His will. I remember telling Him that if He chose never to give me a child of my own I would love, praise, and serve Him to the best of my ability for all my days. I had such peace when I surrendered to Him. And I was pregnant with our precious Kimberly about a month after giving it over to God to decide how my life would go.
This has been a powerful life lesson that has carried me through many struggles. It’s not necessarily the answer to all my questions. But it is a place of peace before God; it is a place of trust in a loving God. One of my favorite Spurgeon quotes says it best: “God is too good to be unkind and He is too wise to be mistaken. And when we cannot trace His hand we must trust His heart.” God’s heart is always for our good.
Before I continue with this train of thought I have to share with you a bit of my husband’s ability to be poignantly witty; it is one of the things about him that I adore. A couple of nights after our daughter’s 40th birthday, she came out to see us. As we sat around our big old oak dining table she shared with us a bit about her life – the struggles, the joys, and everything in between. It is the greatest honor and blessing to have children, and an even greater honor and blessing when they still like you enough to trust you with their hearts when they are grown! Anyway, the next day after this beautiful time with our daughter we were driving to Walmart to pick up a few things and I was almost in tears as I told Dan how thankful I was for this time with our daughter, but was also lamenting how over the past few years these times have gotten fewer and farther apart. In his soft-spoken and serious manner he said, “She’s like a big ole camel in the desert. She only needs a drink every once in awhile.” I think a burst of laughter in the midst of falling tears is one of the most healing moments I experience, and this definitely provided that!
Now back to my thoughts on surrendering to God: This life-long lesson of yielding to God’s sovereign hand was severely tested when my middle child lost his life in a car accident 10 years ago. It took me several years to come back to the place of really yielding my will to God’s; of resting my heart in His goodness, love and care. This place of tenuous peace is challenged every so often when some well-meaning person suggests I do such-and-such or this-or-that to get through the grieving process. I have found a place of peace in deciding not to pay attention to these well-meaning people and fix my eyes on the only One I can truly trust – Jesus.
But I am going to mention one comment, for the sake of context and also because it set me back for months, causing me more grief work than is already always going on. The comment that “Jesus would heal my heart if you’d let Him” really messed with me. After working through the personal hit that it was, I was finally able to see why it bothered me so much….besides the fact that it seemed like a completely unnecessary thing to say. This comment implies that my experience should mirror this person’s experience. Nothing could be further from the truth. We are all unique and our experiences, though all similar, are also each unique. The loss of my son is not going to evoke the same emotions as the loss of this person’s son. And it isn’t about me not letting Jesus heal me. It’s not about anything except that my experience is not the same as hers….or anyone else’s. That is the way God made us; each of us similar to each other, but each incredibly, uniquely, personally individual. God’s dealings with me are going to be specific to me. As they are specific to each person He created.
I’ve learned a lot about myself as I’ve traveled this road of grieving the loss of one of my most precious blessings, and today I’m going to share two corner-turning days that completely changed me and the projection of my path, emotionally speaking. The first happened on the 5th anniversary of our son’s passing. I woke up on that day and felt, for the first time in 5 years, like I wanted to live. I didn’t feel like I had to keep on living, or I could keep on living; both of which were how I’d felt most every day for the previous 5 years. Instead, I actually felt like I wanted to continue living. It was a life-altering moment for me. One I was truly thankful for. And I was quite impressed with the fact that it was on the actual day of the 5th anniversary of his passing.
Amazingly, the second most impactful change happened on the day of the 10th anniversary of our son’s passing, though it was almost an opposite feeling of the 5th anniversary moment. On the 10th anniversary I experienced what felt like a death in myself. It felt like the death of myself – my pre-loss self. I woke up that morning feeling like the night before I’d taken the last gasping breath of hope that my middle child would return to us; that my family would return to its pre-tragedy state. I know it sounds a bit crazy that I’ve held onto this hope for this long. It was mostly subconsciously that I held onto it, and I didn’t completely realize I was holding onto it until I woke up feeling like it was gone and a part of me had died along with the death of that hope.
And this reminds me of another random rambling I’ve been wanting to share. A few months after our son died, I was trying to comfort my youngest daughter who was grieving the loss of her older brother by reminding her of the hope of eternity we, as believers in Christ, have. She looked me in the eye and very sincerely said, “Yeah, but here matters, Mom”. Yes, baby, here matters. This is one thing I think people who haven’t experienced the loss of a child don’t get. In fact, I once said something to a friend of mine about the hopelessness of this loss and she quickly jumped in and corrected me by saying the same thing I said to my daughter. And I agree. We do have this awesome, amazing, outlandishly wonderful promise from God that we are going to live forever with Him in Heaven. And I believe my son is there experiencing that even now. But, here matters. I cannot believe my husband and I have lived over 10 years longer than one of our children. And we’re looking at a possible 20-30 more years of living here without him. My 4 living children have also lived for more than 10 years without the brother they considered a best friend. And they are looking at maybe 40-60 more years without a cherished brother and friend. The loss is real. It is deep. And it is for a very long time here. Yes, in the blink of an eye, all will change and we probably won’t even remember this feeling of loss. But, here and now matters. Minimizing our feelings of loss is not helpful. Ever. In fact, it just makes us want to retreat from people. And that is a sad thing.
I don’t want to end on a not-so-positive note, but I’ve rambled a long time! Before I end, I will share some scriptures with you that have helped me along the way. They are not your typical “everything is going to turn up roses” scriptures. But they are Scripture and they affirm the reality of life here on earth.
“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21
“For He wounds, but He also binds up; He injures, but His hands also heal.” Job 5:18
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust (or hope) in Him.” Job 13:15a A note in my Bible on the word “hope” which also translates “trust” says the Hebrew word is “yachal”. The meaning behind it in English is: To wait, tarry, hope, trust, expect; be patient; remain in anticipation. “The correct way to hope and wait for the Lord is to steadfastly expect His mercy, His salvation, and His rescue, and while waiting, not take matters into one’s own hand.” (This reminds me of the 3rd paragraph above!)
“For to you it has been granted on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake….” Philippians 1:29 (We don’t hear this one quoted in church very often!)
Suffering is a reality of being a human being and living here on this planet. Sometimes, God prevents tragedies that lead to suffering. Sometimes, He allows them. According to Job, sometimes He causes them.
Sometimes, God heals wounds. Sometimes, He requires us to walk with a limp.
When God heals, may I be one who rejoices with those who rejoice. When He chooses to allow one of His children to walk with a limp, may we come along side and weep with those who weep.
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Be of the same mind toward one another. Do not set your mind on high things, but associate with the humble. Do not be wise in your own opinion.” Romans 12:15-16
Thank you for reading my random ramblings.
Love, grace and peace to you all.
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