Many of you are aware Dominic was killed the Saturday before Palm Sunday in 2014. I spent THAT day contacting friends and family who needed to know, welcoming the warm hugs and sad faces of folks driving up our long driveway to offer prayers and help, and just trying to breathe.
Waiting, waiting, waiting for my husband to get home from his job in California. Looking desperately for James Michael to make it here from West Virginia. Walking-because I couldn’t sit still-and weeping because I couldn’t contain the sorrow.
By Sunday everyone was under the same roof and we went to church.
Not because of some super-spiritual commitment to show the world we hadn’t lost our faith but because it was a habit and we had no idea what else to do as we waited for Dominic’s body to be released from the coroner’s office at the state capital.
I don’t remember much from that service. I have no idea what the sermon was about or what songs were sung.
I do remember that at one point the pastor asked the question, “If you could have any super power in the world, what would you choose?” and then went on to list a few, including the ability to turn back time.
My surviving children and I locked eyes. No question. THAT was what we longed for. Go back to the moment Dominic left his apartment. Warn him to stay home. Change the story.
I also remember a sweet friend who hobbled over on crutches (she had injured her leg) during worship to just put her arm around me and allowing me to lean into her, telling me with her presence that she was oh, so very sorry.
I can’t testify that after Dom’s funeral I was inclined to show up on Sunday to a space where (by my standard of suffering) folks sang songs about the sacrifice of worship without a clue.
I couldn’t take the pseudo closeness of people physically pressing in and asking me how I was doing when I had no idea. They meant well. They truly did. But it felt like pressure to provide an answer that would assuage THEIR fears that, faced with the same loss, faith would survive.
I can tell you that after eleven years I am headed to my local congregation this morning with a different perspective.
My heart still hurts marking these days. I’ve got to get past Resurrection Sunday and the Monday following before I’ve walked through it all, including his funeral and burial.
But my Shepherd King has been faithful to lead me with gentleness and mercy along this broken road.
He gave me rest when I needed it and pushed me to walk on when I didn’t want to but it was the right thing to do.
I’ve learned that while others may not know MY pain, they have their own and the comfort I’ve received from Jesus is mine to share with them. I know I can’t turn back time and, in my heart of hearts, wouldn’t want to.
Dominic is experiencing the fullness of what we hope one day to see.
I must remind my heart every day that Jesus Himself declared the blessing in mourning.
I must remember that there is comfort available at His feet.
Not in running from my pain, but in embracing it and trusting Him to redeem it.
What blessing is there in mourning? What comfort in distress? What good can come from pain and brokenness?
Good questions.
Honest questions.
Questions I have asked God.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”~Jesus
The folks that followed Him up the hill were part of a nation that had waited centuries for deliverance from sin and persecution. Jesus was surrounded by people powerless to change their circumstances. They were grieving, mourning, in distress.
So when He said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” He was offering real hope to the brokenhearted. He was issuing an invitation…
When we reach the end of our own strength in grief, God invites us into a fellowship of suffering that includes Jesus Christ.
Burying a child is a humbling experience. It is teaching me that I am powerless and oh, so dependent on the grace and mercy of God.
My heart was broken open wide to receive the truth that fierce love makes me vulnerable to deep pain.
And the pain cleared the clutter and noise of the everyday to focus my mind’s attention and my heart’s affection on the eternal.
My life is swept clean of distraction and foolish things and filled with new understanding of what is important and lasting.
My pain has not disappeared.
But it is making room for the God of all comfort to fill it with hope:
That what I am feeling right now is not forever and forever is going to be glorious…
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.
If someone asked me to describe Jesus I would say He’s the God who does not turn away.
He’s the God who comes near.
He’s the God who will always, always, always show up and bend down.
That’s what I hold onto in this life I didn’t choose-that my Shepherd Savior sees me, hears me, loves me and will help me.
For the Eternal watches over the righteous, and His ears are attuned to their prayers. He is always listening. 16 But He will punish evildoers, and nothing they do will last. They will soon be forgotten. 17 When the upright need help and cry to the Eternal, He hears their cries and rescues them from all of their troubles. 18 When someone is hurting or brokenhearted, the Eternal moves in close and revives him in his pain.
Psalm 34: 15-18 VOICE
Not long after Dominic’s death there was a horrible mass shooting and the perpetrator was in his fifties. I have to admit I literally yelled at God, “REALLY???? This guy lives to his fifties only to kill a bunch of innocent people and You didn’t save Dominic from his accident?!!!”
I was angry and frustrated and sad and broken.
If I’m honest I’ve had a few more moments like that since then.
But I’m brought up short when I read these verses and others like them. The wicked do not have God’s ear. They will not know eternal life with Him in Heaven. They may even be worldly successes but nothing they do will last forever. Riches don’t secure immortality.
Only a penitent heart leaning fully on the grace and mercy of God is eternally safe.
Because I am His child. when I’m hurting, God does not run away or turn a blind eye or a deaf ear-He meets me there.
Jesus is the lover of my soul.
He is the Healer of my heart.
QUESTIONS:
Do you feel heard by God? By others? Why or why not?
How do you deal with the fact that sometimes evil seems to win and evil people prosper?
How would you describe Jesus? Has grief changed how you describe Him?
Is your description consistent with what Scripture tells us about Him?
Theology matters-especially when grieving. What I believe about God and Christ either undermine or strengthen my faith. Write down ten things you believe to be true about God and/or Jesus.
PRAYER:
Father God,
I admit that it’s infuriating and feels unfair that sometimes those who don’t love You still prosper. They seem to have a life free from trouble and heartache. And here I am-hurting, deeply harmed and holding on by a thread.
But You are not unjust. You are not ignoring me. You will work all things together for good for those who love you. Help me trust those truths.
You are the God who came near in the stable and on the cross. You are the God who dwells inside those who receive the gift of salvation through Christ. You are not far away.
I have to admit that when I read the book of Job NOW, it’s no longer an intellectual exercise or detached theological foray into suffering and the sovereignty of God.
I was always appalled at what Job and his wife (remember her?) suffered. I was always a bit confused by God’s question to Satan, “Have you considered My servant, Job?” I was both comforted and confounded that God set boundaries but set them at the bare minimum to spare Job’s life.
Just being honest here.
Pastors and teachers love to talk about the sweeping arc of the story. They love to pull out lessons about how to comfort others in suffering, how to endure suffering ourselves and how, in the end, God restored to Job the things that had been robbed from him.
But my heart walks slowly through those pages. My soul weeps with every new blow struck against a man who, by God’s own account, was a righteous servant of the Most High.
I wonder if David knew the story of Job. It’s believed to have been one of the oldest books in the Old Testament.
If he did, I wonder if he took comfort in the knowledge that God eventually restored Job to a place of blessing, honor and safety.
David certainly knew what it was like to ride high on the wave of God’s favor and then to be dashed to bits on the rocks of adversity. He slew Goliath and then he was anointed king. He was Saul’s musician, ultimately his son-in-law and then his enemy. He knew that God declared his glorious future but he lived for years hiding in caves, eating what he could find and serving random wealthy patrons in hopes of a little peace between Saul’s attempts on his life.
So when he survived yet again, he wrote this Psalm as praise and prophecy.
He rode upon a heavenly creature,[a] flying; He was carried quickly on the wings of the wind. 11 He took darkness as His hiding place— both the dark waters of the seas and the dark clouds of the sky. 12 Out from His brilliance hailstones and burning coals broke through the clouds. 13 The Eternal thundered in the heavens; the Highest spoke; His voice rumbled [in the midst of hail and lightning].[b] 14 He shot forth His arrows and scattered the wicked; He flung forth His lightning and struck them. 15 Then the deepest channels of the seas were visible, and the very foundations of the world were uncovered At Your rebuke, O Eternal One, at the blast of wind from Your nostrils. 16 He reached down His hand from above me; He held me. He lifted me from the raging waters. 17 He rescued me from my strongest enemy, from all those who sought my death, for they were too strong. 18 They came for me in the day of my destruction, but the Eternal was the support of my life. 19 He set me down in a safe place; He saved me to His delight; He took joy in me.
Psalm 18: 10-19 VOICE
Again, David paints a vivid picture of God as Mighty Warrior.
But not just any warrior, raging through battle, unaware of who may be on His left or right. God is the One who protects His anointed. He is the One who reaches down and rescues.
God set David in a safe place. When He declared, “Enough!” no enemy could come further.
David had the sure promises of God to lean on. He knew that God is in control even when things feel out of control.
In the same way, the Lord established a hedge of protection around Job. He set the limits for Satan. He had him on a chain.
Of course there’s no indication from Scripture that Job knew his suffering had any limits. And while he didn’t sin by accusing God of wrongdoing, he certainly voiced his pain, indignation and desire to end his suffering through death.
I feel like I’m living in a space between the personal, rock-solid promises God gave David through Samuel and others and the blind faith of Job where God’s hand and purpose were concealed.
I know that every promise of God in Christ is “yes” and “amen”.
I know that the end has been written and everything that has been stolen, broken or touched by death will be redeemed, restored and resurrected.
But some days I wonder how long I’ll have to wait until I see those promises fulfilled. I wonder how much more I might have to endure, give up or lay down before I reach my heavenly Home.
That’s when I call my heart back to this picture of God as a Warrior who will always rescue me-both here and in the hereafter.
God has put my foot on a solid Rock.
When sorrow threatens to drag me deeper than my heart can bear, He reaches down and pulls me up.
When fear finds me in the dark and whispers lies in my ear, He makes His Presence real and speaks comfort to my soul.
Like Job and David and millions before me, I can trust the One who promises.
I can rest in His unfailing love and absolute sovereignty.
If you are like me, sometimes we read Scripture like a story book-we already know the ending and often ignore the very real human drama people were living through. Does it help your heart hold onto hope to know that even after God rescued David from the hand of Saul, he (David) was still not in full possession of the promise that he’d be king? Why or why not?
Child loss is absolutely the most devastating blow I’ve suffered in my life and it was a long, long time before I was able to look up in my brokenness and look for blessings. When I did, I found that while there was no cosmic scale that could balance my loss with whatever I might still have or gain, my heart was strengthened when I noticed blessings again. Are you able to look for blessings yet? If so, does it encourage you? If not, would you be willing to try to find one little smile-inducing good thing a day for a week?
I love, love, love David’s words: “He reached down His hand from above me; He held me. He lifted me from the raging waters.” Our God is a personal God who does not despise us because we are weak and unable to save ourselves. He delights in reaching down and lifting us up. How do those words make you feel? When have you felt God reach down and lift you up?
We end our study of this Psalm with verse 19: “He set me down in a safe place; He saved me to His delight; He took joy in me. ” We are ultimately set safely in the redemption of Christ (if we have received that gift by faith). But I also believe we can live our lives in a safe space even in the midst of suffering when we choose to focus on Who God is and refuse to let circumstances blind us to His love, His goodness, His promises and His strength. What concrete steps can you take to help your heart focus on truth when your feelings threaten to drag you into falsehood?
PRAYER:
Lord,
You are the lover of my soul, my Mighty Warrior, my Savior and my Good Shepherd. Help me hold onto those truths when life threatens to undo me.
Give me the courage to face pain and suffering in the sure knowledge that You see me, You are with me and You will rescue me. I may not get a miracle or even a medical cure, but I will have the final victory in Christ.
When death and the awful darkness of grief roll over me like a flood, push it back with Your light, love and life.
Let me hear You singing joy over my soul.
Amen
***I combined today and tomorrow’s writing assignments***
This weekend I am privileged to be sharing both my hurt and my healing with fellow bereaved parents.
I can’t say there haven’t been tears but I can tell you there’s also been laughter.
There is great solace in reaching out your hand and having it gripped by an understanding soul. None of us wants to be alone in this journey.
You don’t have to be.
❤ Melanie
A sweet friend made sure I had Nicholas Wolterstorff’s book, Lament for a Son, in my hands just days after Dominic’s accident. And it was one of the most helpful, kindest gifts I ever received.
It still lives by my chair and I look at it often.
It might have been the similarities in circumstances that took our sons-his died in a mountain climbing accident, mine in a motorcycle accident-or it might have been our shared theology, but when I read his words, they spoke my heart.
I had a large goat and sheep herd for over 20 years. In that time I learned a great deal about a shepherd’s heart.
I was privileged to lead, feed and protect the creatures in my care. More than once, a lamb who was near death or an older animal, injured and despairing, was nursed back to vibrancy with tender care and attention.
My favorite way to picture Jesús is as my Shepherd King.
He is the Shepherd whose heart is always for me, whose love is perfect and my King who is supremely able and powerful to work His will in my life.
If even the idea of hope has long vanished, precious heart, lean into Him.
It’s interesting how God gives a similar message to many in His family around the same time. My friend and fellow bereaved mom, Kathleen Duncan posted just yesterday Dear Momma Who’s Feeling Not Enough. She had no idea that I had this post lined up over a week ago for today. So maybe we should all take a moment to realize that we ARE enough-just us. Because of Christ, we ARE enough. ❤
It has taken me decades to internalize the message that I don’t have anything to prove.
It has taken many, many heartbreaking moments to realize that no matter how hard I try to please everyone and met each expectation held over my head, I will fail.
It’s kind of counterintuitive really-that my initial response to Dominic’s death would be affirmation of my faith and my response weeks later would be doubt.
But it makes a lot of sense really.
When the unthinkable happens, if your heart is already turned in a particular direction the path of least resistance is to keep flowing downhill.
A bit later, when shock has worn off and your brain wakes up and you begin to do the “math” suddenly it’s not so easy to believe that God is good, He is sovereign and He has a perfect plan.
One of the things I’m learning this side of burying my precious child is that there is no upper limit to the sorrow and pain I may have to carry in this life. And it’s no use comparing my burden to that of another-begging God to consider the differing weights and to make adjustments to lighten my load because it is heavier than that of another.
I do not get a pass on daily stress and strain.
I’m not guaranteed physical health.
I am just as likely as anyone else to get the grumpy cashier, to drop a dish or lose my keys.Or worse.
A sweet friend made sure I had Nicholas Wolterstorff’s book, Lament for a Son, in my hands just days after Dominic’s accident. And it was one of the most helpful, kindest gifts I ever received. It still lives by my chair and I look at it often.
It might have been the similarities in circumstances that took our sons-his died in a mountain climbing accident, mine in a motorcycle accident-or it might have been our shared theology, but when I read his words, they spoke my heart.
In some liturgical Christian traditions, today is the day the church remembers and honors Mary anointing the feet of Jesus with expensive and rare perfume.
It was a beautiful act of great sacrifice as the perfume would ordinarily be a family treasure broken and used only at death for anointing a beloved body.
It’s also an expression of deep sorrow because somehow Mary knew.
Mary. Knew.
So she poured out her precious gift on the One Who loves her most.
thelifeididntchoose 