It’s not uncommon for clients to be asked by their counselor, “What does happiness look like for you?”.
Because, let’s face it, few of us seek counseling unless we are unhappy or dissatisfied with our current life.
Unlike physical healing, mental, spiritual and emotional healing are rather subjective and it’s important to know what we’re aiming for when seeking help in moving our hearts toward wholeness (or at least, “less brokenness”).
So it’s not surprising that another bereaved parent was asked this question during a session recently. She brought it to the greater community because she felt that she didn’t have a good answer or, really, any answer at all.
I get it.
Child loss is devasting.
In the early days after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, the idea of “happiness” was as foreign to me as living on Mars. Possible, maybe, but highly improbable and not something I wanted to pursue.
Before death walked through my door, I didn’t find it necessary to parse the difference between happiness, contentment and joy.
Now, I find it absolutely critical.
Happiness is a feeling that everything is going my way-sunshine and roses, no uncomfortable circumstances, no insurmountable challenges. If I’m honest, even before child loss, I wasn’t always happy. It’s easy to idolize my “before” life into somethin it was not.
Contentment, on the other hand, is a settled trust in God’s goodness, mercy and love regardless of my current circumstances. I, like Paul, can LEARN to be content when I focus on the eternal story the Lord is writing that will proclaim His glory for ever and ever. I have to remind my heart every day of truth-even when it doesn’t want to hear it.
Joy is a burst of sweetness and delight-like biting into a perfect strawberry or being greeted with a slobbery kiss from a toddler who has stood by the window, waiting for your arrival. I can choose to make much of these moments or overlook them.
Eleven years on this road, while I find happiness elusive and contentment a work-in-progress, I find looking for joy rewarding.
I live on acreage that is mostly native grasses and weeds. Sometimes when I look out at the rough, uncut vista all I see is a raggedy mess. It is so unlike the tidy, mowed, landscaped lawns I grew up with as a child.
But when I WALK through the fields and look closely, there are dozens of different wildflowers tucked amid the weeds.
That’s how I’ve come to think of life after my son ran ahead to Heaven.
Life itself isn’t what I want or how I thought it would be- not predictable or beautiful (by my earlier standards of beauty). But there are STILL beautiful moments, relationships and events that I can treasure.
I’ve learned to focus on those and hold them close.
Most days are pretty good now but this habit continues to feed my soul.
When a particularly hard day comes, it helps me from falling so far down the rabbit hole of despair that I can’t climb back out.
May the Lord help all of us find the beauty and blessing that remains even as we miss our children and look forward to seeing them again in Heaven.
thelifeididntchoose 