Clearly marked boundaries, categories and rules make things easier.
But life rarely fits in the tidy boxes I like to create.
And when it doesn’t I’m tempted to ignore the parts that don’t fit-tempted to pretend they don’t exist-so I can maintain the world I’ve created for myself. I would rather march on in ignorance than drag out my underlying assumptions to figure out if they are true or false.
That takes a lot of work.
In the church we like to line up the “Overcomers” to give testimony of how faith in Christ has turned their life around.
And He absolutely does that.
Some are delivered from addiction, sin and abuse. Some receive healing-none the less miraculous if it comes through the hands of skilled physicians. Some enjoy restored relationships.
But not everyone gets what they long for. Not every loss can be undone.
And those left to live their lives hoping but not healed can be labeled “losers”. We can be marginalized because our story is messy and can’t be tied up in a neat spiritual package.
It MATTERS how we frame the very personal tragedies that people around us experience.
My friend and fellow loss mom, Janet Boxx, has written a beautiful post that exposes one of the ways life doesn’t fit the neat categories we like to use.
Please take a moment to read her post It’s Personal .
Sometimes people outside our experience toss Scripture at us who are suffering like confetti in a parade-as if we are heroes who only have yet to take the podium and declare the victory.
But what if there IS no victory in this life for some of us?
What if there is only endurance–which is a sort of victory but one not highly valued?
Paul never declared a final victory over his thorn in the flesh. He characterized his life as one “poured out like a drink offering”. He said he “groaned” in his earthly tent and “longed” to be clothed with the heavenly.
I am living. I don’t spend my days curled up in a ball (even when I want to).
But I groan–I groan for the time when what the enemy has stolen will be restored.
Until then, even if I have to crawl, battered and bruised:
“I push myself forward toward the goal to win the prize. God has appointed me to win it. The heavenly prize is Christ Jesus himself.” (Philippians 3:14 NIRV)
The final destruction of death is still in the future. It hasn’t happened yet, but it will. Not only will I see Lenya again, but I will hold the same body I held here, only better, because what the thief has stolen will be restored sevenfold (Proverbs 6:31)!
This is why it’s crucial for you to see that we don’t need to put a nice face on our pain or hurry people through a process that can’t be rushed; the fact that our sadness doesn’t go away makes our triumph even more powerful. Our faith works in the fire, and not just when life is fun. We can be hard-pressed and yet not crushed, struck down and yet not destroyed — not because we know general facts about the resurrection or that there is a heaven, but because we trust in the one who said that he is the resurrection and the life, who took the keys from death and hell, was dead, and lives forever. His name is Jesus, and he always leads us in triumph!
~Levi Lusko, Through the Eyes of a Lion
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Melanie,
Your words are perfect. My husband found Through the Eyes of A Lion for me at Mardel on clearance a couple of months ago. I have read the 1st couple of pages.
I can’t bring myself to read anymore right now but I’ll read it in time.
My son went home to be the Father on September 27th, 2014. Asthma.
He would be turning 18 in 2 months and 20 days. He would be graduating next year. My best is empty.
Endurance. Oh the victory of just letting the air in our lungs. The work day completed. The calm kept, rather than the rage unleashed.
I’m ok with endurance. My victories are mine and mine alone and hopefully the fact that I just show up to do life will be the beacon that the next mother needs to do the same.
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Yes, absolutely! I devoured some books early on in my journey but have found lately that I’m not as inclined to read ones authored by other bereaved parents. I hope that will change again someday. For now, I find my best encouragement from online community and those who interact with me here, on the blog. Praying the Father continues to give you strength to endure dear mama. ❤
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With awe I have observed saints who are enduring. I have never coveted their ministry to my shame and loss. Some have the ministry of suffering. How the Lord must love them.
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If I may I would like to share a poem I wrote recently: Interrupted.
Marriage. My career. Living life as I planned. No plans of children of my own. Refuse diapers burpings all hours of the day and night. I won’t be interrupted.
Time has passed. So much bad in this marriage abuse. I’m pregnant. What has G-D allowed. Adding another strain to this already cruel joke of a union. I can’t have it. I won’t add a child into this mistreatment. I will abort. I won’t be interrupted.
Sure and most certain of my decision a doctor still requests an ultrasound. A heartbeat. Many heartbeats. Loud. Strong. Symphonic. A baby, a miracle inside me. My plans drastically change. I won’t abort this life. Warned of the many things that could go wrong, the death of the fetus, the death of me, it’s onward I go with this lil soul. I won’t be interrupted.
A child is born. It’s a son. 10 pounds 11 ounces of pure screaming proving strong lungs. It’s as if the heavens opened and the Angels joined in unison in those perfect screams. The most beautiful sound and sight in all my life. I’m overwhelmed. I’m a momma. I won’t be interrupted.
Each year he grows. This lil man stole my heart and soul. I cannot thank G-D enough for this chance of a lifetime. This gift wrapped up in a lil body with perfect skin and eyes that seem to capture me to peace no matter my mood. That smile and sweetest of tender hearts has melted this viper that years have made me. He’s so much better than I deserve and I’m grateful enough to live knowing it. I’m raising a child. Other than Yeshua, nothing else comes before Shane. I won’t be interrupted.
He grows. He manages to a maturity I am astonished to watch. He tells people of the Lord without hesitancy. He’s so brave never concerned of the response that could be. He’s earned the nicknames we have for him. His Grampy calls him Buddy and Warrior. His Gah calls him her pure Sugar. Momma calls him my love, my heart, my joy, my smorgasbord, my everything, my lil man and a list of many other beautiful descriptions of how much I love him. Life is happy. Joyful. Full of energy and can’t wait till another day comes awaiting more joy I know he brings to me. I won’t be interrupted.
He’s 8 years old now. Off on another visitation the courts forced upon me. I talked to him on the phone during allowed time and relish in my most favorite sound of my life, his voice. I melt as he tells me he misses n loves me so much. The call ends with my usual goodbye – Baby ? Other than Yeshua, YOU ARE the love of my life ! We hang up as I already to begin to anticipate my next call with him then his coming back home to my arms. OH I’m SO in love. I won’t be interrupted.
A knock on the door late at night Man in uniform. This can’t be good. He asks if I am Shane’s mother. I reply, Is my son ok ? His words come at me like bullets. My son has been killed in an accident. My world is shattered in those few disastrous catastrophic traumatic fatal words. His Grampy with trembling knees, drives me to where Shane lies. My baby boy, my heart, my life lays on a table motionless. Injuries displayed are like spears ripping through me. He’s so cold to the touch. I lay my head on his chest straining to feel it rise and fall and to hear his heartbeats. The silence is deafening. Still, that face is the same peaceful gentleness it’s been all his life. My dad comes in. Says we must go now. NO !!! I won’t be interrupted.
How can I explain this life now. I could take all the words in the dictionary describing the worse that life has endured. But it still wouldn’t be enough to make people in this world who have never suffered child loss, Shane loss, understand. Still Faith bound yet a heaviness that never, EVER goes away. Once a life full of joy and contentment to pain, despondent, heartsick, inconsolable. The greater the love, the severity the grief. I fell in love with a gift I never wanted. Surprised by G-D to be crowned a momma. Then………one second in time, it vanished. Anxiously waiting for my time here to end so I can hold my Shane again. Until then, I will live my life forever interrupted. To my Shane Aaron 03/10/03-08/01/11.
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I am so very sorry for your pain and loss. Thank you for sharing your heart here. May G-d continue to pour His love, grace and mercy in your heart and sustain you until that day of reunion.
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“Sometimes people outside our experience toss Scripture at us who are suffering like confetti in a parade-as if we are heroes who only have yet to take the podium and declare the victory . . .
I am living. I don’t spend my days curled up in a ball (even when I want to).
But I groan–I groan for the time when what the enemy has stolen will be restored.”
Oh, yes!
Love the Levi Lusko quote!
Thanks not only for sharing my post, but for framing it and clarifying it so well.
Love to you, Melanie!
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I hear you.
But not everyone gets what they long for. Not every loss can be undone – Very true!
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