I suspect that if Dominic had not left suddenly, unexpectedly and oh, so early, for Heaven I might have enjoyed a life with much less introspection.
My faith may have remained relatively unchallenged and my heart may have grown too used to American middle-class comfort.
That’s not my story though.
I’m forced to confront the complexities of fairness, God’s sovereignty and what it means to love someone beyond the grave.
Here are some of my ponderings…
2016: Love, The Reason I Grieve
How long has it been? A year, two, eighteen or twenty-five?
When. are. you. going. to. move on?
Aren’t you over talking about their birth story, their childhood, their school years, their spouse, children, moves and career? How many funny stories or sad recollections do I have to listen to?????
I mean, really-it’s been soooooooooo00 long since they were BORN!
Sound’s ridiculous, doesn’t it? It IS ridiculous.
We don’t expect parents to “move on” or “get over” their living children.
Why, why, why do we expect parents to move on or get over the ones they’ve had to bury?
My love for each of my children, on earth or in heaven, is life-long.
I wrote about it here: Love: The Reason I Grieve
2018: Life Is Absolutely NOT Fair
I remember a particularly good but also frustrating encounter with Dominic when he was about 12 or 13. As a middle child (third of four) and middle son (second of three), something happened where he felt overlooked, underrepresented and left out or cheated.
So he challenged me regarding whether or not his treatment was “fair”.
And while I was on the side of accepting that things/life/situations are inherently unfair when arguing with Dominic, I now find myself on the side of lamenting the very thing I was willing to accept then.
Because 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.
Read the rest here: Life is Absolutely NOT Fair
2019: Suffering and Safe Places
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.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Suffering and Safe Places
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