I am so very thankful for the hope I have in Christ.
I am dependent every moment on the strength of Jesus and the Word of God to point my heart to the eternal truth that my son is safe in heaven and that I will be reunited with him one day.
I honestly don’t know how a person who does not share my hope in the finished work of Christ can bear the burden of child loss.
But hope, strong as it is, and effective as it is, does not erase the pain.
It gives me the endurance to bear the pain.
It allows me to see past the pain to something better.
But I still feel the pain.
Hope is not anesthesia.
Hope does not dull my senses nor does it render my heart hard to the longing and missing and hurting of life without the son I love.
I believe in Christ.
I believe that “God so loved the world He sent His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life”. (John 3:16)
And often, when inviting someone to believe in Jesus I will explain that God loves them SO much, He gave up His Son, just to save them.
Only the hardest heart would think such sacrifice was small or insignificant.
If it was painful for the Father to allow wicked men to kill His Son, then it is painful to me for death to take mine.
It is unhealthy to ignore pain.
But when it comes to emotional pain, we sometimes shut people out or shut them down.
I submit that we diminish the power of the cross when we deny or minimize the presence of pain.
Believing that God is in control and Jesus lives does not undo grief’s storm-it is a lifeline that keeps my desperate and hurting heart from sinking under the waves.
One day my hope will be made sight. One day the faith I hold onto will be realized in full.
Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus, even though He knew that death would not win and Lazarus would walk out of the grave.
For now, I place my broken heart in the hands of the One Who made it because I know He knows my pain.
And I know that He longs as much as I do for the day when all will be redeemed and restored.