Since losing my son, I often feel like I’m in a holding pattern, circling life and unable to land.
I’m better at doing than waiting.
I was prepared for the tears and the sorrow and the longing of grief. But this lifetime of waiting took me by surprise.
I am caught between the here-and-now and the hereafter and I must give each a measure of my attention.
Waiting weighs me down and makes it so very difficult to move.
Because the one thing I want to DO is bring Dominic back.
But that is impossible.
And I groan in travail, desperate to birth into fullness what God has promised.
Paul wrote to the church in Rome, acknowledging the tension between our earthly experience and the glory of heaven:
It is plain to anyone with eyes to see that at the present time all created life groans in a sort of universal travail. And it is plain, too, that we who have a foretaste of the Spirit are in a state of painful tension, while we wait for that redemption of our bodies which will mean that at last we have realised our full sonship in him. We were saved by this hope, but in our moments of impatience let us remember that hope always means waiting for something that we haven’t yet got. But if we hope for something we cannot see, then we must settle down to wait for it in patience.
Romans 8: 24-26 Phillips
And these verses are the cornerstone of a ministry to those who have experienced child loss called “While We’re Waiting”. (While We’re Waiting)
Founded by two bereaved mothers, it is a Christ-centered, supportive environment that provides a safe place to share with those who understand by experience what grieving parents are going through.
The Facebook page (while we’re waiting ) is a way for bereaved parents to connect with and encourage one another.
In our mutual waiting, we are all learning that “hope always means waiting for something that we haven’t yet got.” Together we are spurring one another on to finish well.
This community has been so helpful as I continue my grief journey.
By example, I am learning how to keep living and wait for reunion at the same time.
I am learning to persevere.
I am learning to rest but also to work.
I am learning to bear the heaviness of sorrow and deferred hope while also walking confidently in the path God has laid before me.
And when I am worn out in the waiting, overwhelmed with the prospect of a lifetime of longing, I am encouraged by the love and support of fellow travelers who remind me of God’s faithfulness and provision, even in the wilderness of grief.