Category: revelation

More Time

The other day I needed to get something in the room where we have Dominic’s things stored-not the boxed-up-not-dealing-with-them-now things-but the personal things that bear his scent, his mark, his personality.

And the warm spring air had concentrated the odor that is him just behind the doorway.  It caught me by surprise-that I could still smell him, still feel his presence, still be so certain that he had just passed by this very spot.

My mama heart cried, “More time!”

Just one more minute,

one more hug,

one more “I love you”,

one more breath.

But it would never be enough.  

One more would only feed my longing for the next minute.

There is no earthly cure for this heart sickness.  No words to make it better.  No medicine strong enough to numb the pain of missing him.

So I wait.

I wait for my heart to heal enough so that I can focus on something other than healing.

I wait for passion to return to my soul.

I wait for a day-just one day-when joyful moments outweigh sorrowful ones.

I wait for the promised beauty from ashes.

I wait for faith to be made sight.

And while I wait, I turn my heart and mind and strength toward the One Who is Faithful and True.

Nothing that has cursed mankind shall exist any longer; the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be within the city. His servants shall worship him; they shall see his face, and his name will be upon their foreheads. Night shall be no more; they have no more need for either lamplight or sunlight, for the Lord God will shed his light upon them and they shall reign as kings for timeless ages.

Then the angel said to me, “These words are true and to be trusted, for the Lord God, who inspired the prophets, has sent his angel to show his servants what must shortly happen.”

“See, I come quickly! Happy is the man who pays heed to the words of the prophecy in this book.”

Revelation 22:3-7 PHILLLIPS

 

 

curating grief

Most of us have taken a class or two in literature–we read other people’s writing and sit around discussing “what it really means”.  My husband has always scoffed at the notion that anyone but the author knows that.

Me–I love books, plays and poetry so I’ve spent a lifetime reading and trying to interpret the meaning of others’ words.

But now I find I’m leaning more toward my husband’s point of view.

One of the challenges I face as a grieving parent is finding that other people want to interpret my experience for me.

They want to curate my mourning like a museum exhibit–arrange and highlight and sift through the days before and after burying my child and lay my experience out in some way that makes sense to them.

Sometimes it is subtle and involves mentioning memories that cast the missing child in a positive light–extolling his virtues and highlighting his achievements–as if noting how wonderful he was when walking this earth makes it easier to let him go.

Other times it is direct and forceful–“Everything happens for a reason.” Or, “He wouldn’t want you to be sad.”  Or, my personal favorite, “You know he’s safe with Jesus and you will be together again one day.”

While my theology rests firmly on the finished work of Christ, my heart longs for the physical presence of my son.  So none of these platitudes are helpful and they only draw a sharper contrast between my hope and my experience.

Let me just be blunt:  unless you have buried a child, you do not know how it feels. 

Full stop.

No debate.

I am grateful for your support, for your prayers, for your kindness, compassion and love.

But please do not tell me how this all makes sense or fits together in God’s plan or will someday “make a difference”.

I  invite you to travel with me, to share stories (good and bad) of my son with me, to sit with me and look at the memories, feel the sorrow and experience the missing.

And, if you are brave, you can ask me what it means.

 

 

Jesus: The Alpha & Omega

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End [the Eternal One].” Revelation 22:13 AMP

Jesus, the eternal Son of the eternal Father, bookends all history.

Even though there are things that surprise me, there is nothing that surprises Him.

When my son died, I wrote this to be included in the bulletin at his funeral:

“Dominic’s death was an accident from our perspective, but God knew from the moment He gave Dominic to us, that this would happen.  He was not surprised and He was and is in control.  Jesus was with my precious child when he took his first breath and when he took his last.  I don’t understand but I will trust.”

I still don’t understand, and I hurt,  but Jesus is eternal, ever present and ever faithful–and I will trust.

“Lord, I am so caught up in the here and now that I often lose sight of eternity.  Forgive me.  When things surprise me, help me rest in You–the Beginning and the End–to trust You–the Alpha and Omega.  Give me the grace to face each day with the settled assurance that whatever it may bring, You hold it in Your hand.”