It’s really hard to wrap my mind around what exactly Dominic is doing now that he’s not here with me. Sometimes I try to create a narrative or a scene or a story line that gives me something to hold on to.
It’s not easy though.
So I absolutely understand why some parents think of their missing child as their “guardian angel”. But that just doesn’t correspond to what Scripture tells me about what happens after death.
I firmly believe that there is a heaven and that my son is there, in the presence of Jesus and the saints that have gone before.
We are confident, then, and would much prefer to leave our home in the body and come to our home with the Lord.
I Corinthians 5:8 CJB
He’s not an angel nor has he been assigned to look out for me down here with some kind of supernatural power to intervene and make things happen-either good or bad.
He is worshiping with other believers at the feet of Jesus, the Lamb slain before the foundation of the world.
And honestly, that brings me more comfort than the thought that he is watching me suffer his absence down here.
Dominic loved me-still loves me, I believe-and if he were aware of the deep pain his absence causes it would be torture for him.
But in the presence of Christ there is only joy.
You teach me the way of life. In your presence is total celebration. Beautiful things are always in your right hand.
Psalm 16:11 CEB
So he cannot know my pain.
It would break his heart.
It is great consolation in this journey to realize that he is beyond ALL pain and sorrow.
When it’s not your kid you can think of all kinds of lofty, theologically correct arguments or reasons for why God answers one prayer and not another–for why one person is healed and not another–for why one person survives a devastating-should-have-killed-him accident but not another.
But when it is your child that doesn’t survive or isn’t healed or is stolen through the violent actions of someone else…well, that’s a different matter entirely.
I prayed every day for my children. I asked God to protect them, to give them wisdom, to draw them to Himself and to guide their steps.
I never thought I was “giving orders” to God, but I did expect that my prayers would be honored-that by praying in obedience to biblical commands and in accord with scriptural principles I was making a difference in the heavenlies.
Like Daniel, who received word that his prayers had helped Gabriel fight against the prince of the air opposing him, I sent my petitions as weapons and armor against any schemes of the evil one that might threaten to undo my family. (Daniel 10: 1-13)
Herein lies the problem: when things go well, when the job comes through, the test score is great and the person walks out of the hospital, healed and whole, we say, “God answered prayers.”
And I believe that He does.
But if we ascribe glory and praise and honor and thanksgiving for the blessings received, how are we to understand and talk about the ones denied?
The nation of Israel was looking for Messiah-expecting Him.
Yet when He came, most missed Him. They had decided for themselves what He would look like, what He would do and how He would rescue them from bondage.
God’s ways are inscrutable.
I’m not arguing that prayer doesn’t matter.
It does.
I am commanded to pray. And God’s faithfulness to answer prayer is documented from Genesis through Revelation.
But I would argue that the way we speak about prayer, as if we understand how it works and how God works in it and through it, is often unhelpful.
The book of Job pulls back the curtain on what was happening in the heavenlies when God allowed Satan access to Job’s life. We know that Job’s earthly suffering represented a testimony for God against the Accuser.
But there’s no evidence that Job ever knew.
There was no dramatic revelation by God to this man that had lost EVERYTHING except his own life (which he would have gladly given up) and his wife (who, it seems, went on to bear him more children-oh joy!). Instead, God confronts Job with questions, not answers.
My heart wants answers, not more questions.
I doubt that I will have them this side of heaven.
So I have decided to speak more honestly about my experience with prayer, to refuse to pretend I understand how it works any more than I understand how God breathes life into bodies or takes souls to heaven.
I will pray, as best I can-mostly recalling God’s own words to Him-and resist my desire to think that because I pray, I can direct His hand.
When Jesus was in agony at Gethsemene, He asked His Father to take the bitter cup from HIm, but in the end, submitted to God’s will and plan.
That is all I have left for me as well-to submit and be made into whatever God has ordained.
I will trust in the goodness and faithful love of my Heavenly Father, because He IS my Father.
I will lean into His heart even when I cannot see or understand the work of His hands and follow because He is the One Who will lead me Home.
A couple of years ago, I shared with some bereaved parent support groups on the topic of “Bringing our child with us into a New Year”.
We talked about how time is tricky once a child goes to Heaven.
In the course of our conversation, I talked about Psalm 139:16.
I know for some parents it brings tremendous comfort.
For others, it feels like the plainest interpretation (in English, at least) is that God ordained our child’s death and that feels cruel.
For what it’s worth, after consulting as many different translations as I could find and looking up key words in a concordance, this is how I think about that verse.
God is outside time. That’s why the Bible says Jesus “was slain from the foundation of the world”.
Yet we know, historically, that Jesus’ death occurred on a specific day in human history. When the Son of God came as the Son of Man and took on flesh, He was as much a prisoner of time as we are. That is why He wept with Mary and Marthaat the death of Lazarus.
It’s not that God ordained my son’s death, it’s that He knew precisely when it would occur. If my son had not left his apartment that night and driven his motorcycle too fast in a curve, I do not for one minute think God would have sent a lightning bolt to end his life because it was “his day to die”.
Our lives are laid out before Him from birth through eternity and nothing is a surprise to Him.
He knows the end from the beginning.
And yet…He has also given us free will.
He has created a world in which biology, physics, and other natural laws prevail.
Sin has marred that creation and so bad things happen. Sometimes the bad things are a result of cells that grow out of control or body parts that don’t function properly. Sometimes the bad things are due to the sin of others or ourselves. Sometimes the bad things are “acts of nature”.
Death is not God’s will for any of us but it is something we must bear because of sin. Thankfully, for those who are in Christ Jesus, physical death is not the final word!
I do not understand this even as I type it.
It’s a mystery that I’ve learned to live with every day (some days it’s easier than others!).
Still, I am more comforted by a God I cannot fathom and Who is all-knowing, all-powerful and all-loving than I would be with a god I could fit into a box of my own making.
On the hard days, I have to remind my heart of that truth.
I’ve been part of online bereaved parent support groups for over ten years.
Sadly, there are always new names and faces each week and when I read their posts, I am drawn again to those very early days when, next to the excruciating pain, doubt, disbelief and questions dominated my whole being.
There are no shortcuts through grief.
Each one of us must take every step ourselves (even if we have the sweet blessing of companionship on the journey).
But I do believe that when some of us who have wrestled with questions and, yes, wrestled with God Himself, share our own journey, we can at least assure hurting hearts there is a way forward.
So for a little while I’m going to dig out older posts that show how I worked through a few of these big questions.
I’m sure there will be folks who disagree with me and that is absolutely, positively OK. In fact, I’d love to hear YOUR thoughts and feelings.
Here are some of the questions I will try to address:
Does God really number our days?
What about prayer?
Are our children now our guardian angels?
What about mediums and signs?
How can I know my child is with Jesus?
Is it OK to be angry with God?
Did God “take” my child?
What about sovereignty and free will?
I try hard not to twist Scripture to fit my own point of view.I am committed to remain silent (or at least present various interpretations) on murky subjects and hard-to-interpret verses. I am neither a Greek nor Hebrew scholar although I do use concordances and dictionaries like crazy.Sometimes I change my mind in light of additional research or when Holy Spirit opens my eyes to something I didn’t see or understand before.
So if you are interested, like I am, in theBIG QUESTIONS child loss forces most of us to face, follow along.
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.
I wanted explanations!
Like Job I had a list of questions for the Almighty. And also like Job, I found that when He showed up (not in person but through His word) I could only cover my mouth in shame.
When I was beleaguered and bitter, totally consumed by envy, I was totally ignorant, a dumb ox in your very presence. I’m still in your presence, but you’ve taken my hand. You wisely and tenderly lead me, and then you bless me. 25-28 You’re all I want in heaven! You’re all I want on earth! When my skin sags and my bones get brittle, God is rock-firm and faithful. Look! Those who left you are falling apart! Deserters, they’ll never be heard from again. But I’m in the very presence of God— oh, how refreshing it is! I’ve made Lord God my home. God, I’m telling the world what you do!
Psalm 73:21-28 MSG (paraphrase)
Here’s the good, good, good news: God isn’t surprised at my anger, disappointment or lack of understanding.
He- like every good parent who recognizes a child is reacting out of ignorance-takes my hand, holds me close and waits until the energy of rebellion and frustration spends itself, and says, “There, there, dear one. I’m here.”
I can’t scare God away. He’s the Perfect Father.
So if you are struggling with questions and struggling whether or not to take them to God (as if He doesn’t know)-go ahead. Hand them over.
He is neither afraid of nor offended by our weakness, our impertinence nor our honest questions. He wants us to let them go. He wants us to speak them aloud, admit to our own hearts we have them and then release them.
Because in the space created in surrender, He can work.
In the gap between our own strength and the awful struggle ahead, He will pour grace, mercy, endurance and hope.
He never leaves us nor forsakes us.
My parents would argue I am young.
My children would laughingly accuse me of being old. (My skin is definitely sagging!)
Some days I feel one way or the other and it has nothing to do with the years I’ve lived and everything to do with the hardships I’ve endured.
But I can say with absolute certainty that I am more sure now than I was before that God is God.
He is good.
He will redeem, restore and resurrect.
QUESTIONS:
Have you ever been bitter? How do you think it might have informed your feelings about God?
Are you bitter now? Have you considered telling God about it?
Do you feel God is near you? Why or why not?
When the psalmist compares himself to a dumb animal he’s referring to the fact that oxen or donkeys go where their masters tell them to (or not!) and either comply or resist with no real understanding of why they may be asked to do this or that. But we are not dumb animals. We can choose to trust our Master because of past experience and the sure promises of Scripture. How does focusing your attention and heart’s affection on the Truth of Scripture help you surrender?
Our flesh will fail. It’s not a question of if but a question of when. Honestly,my flesh has failed many times in these 55 years. I’ve written before that I’m convinced the years of Bible study before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven were years spent preparing my heart to receive that blow. I was not spared, but I was prepared. If you haven’t made a commitment to spend daily time in Bible study and the Presence of God, would you be willing to try to do it now? Have these days of reflection given you any new nuggets to hold onto?
PRAYER:
Lord,
I know You can drag me around like a recalcitrant child or a misbehaved pet. But you don’t. You want me to bring my hurt, my anger, my bitterness, my disobedience and distrust to You.
You don’t run away. You aren’t hard to find. You don’t turn your back on me. You are always a breath away-waiting to hold my hand, wrap my heart in your love and whisper courage to my soul.
Help me run first to You. Always, always to You. You truly are my only hope. My true salvation. My Rock and my Shelter.
Keep my eyes focused on You and not on people around me. Comparison only breeds discontent. I know that one day-one glorious Day-the song I’ll sing will be to my Redeemer and tell of Your faithful goodness to me.
Some of us have grown up in faith communities where doubt is treated as disbelief.
I’m so sorry.
Doubt is, in my opinion, a precursor to deeper faith, stronger commitment, informed and more solid trust in God and in His goodness and sovereignty.
If devastating loss has brought you to knees or face down on the floor begging God to make sense of it all, you are in good company. So many of His saints have cried out in despair.
If you are frightened you are losing faith, remember this: the simple fact you know where and to Whom to bring your pain means your heart is still turned toward your Savior.
I can’t stop the clock or the sun or the days rolling by.
Those of us who are more than a couple months along in this journey (or any journey that involves tragedy and loss) know that it is ABSOLUTELY POSSIBLEto feel worse than in the first few days.
Because as the edges of the fog lift and the reality of an entire lifetime looms before you the questions form and the doubt sinks in:
Where ARE You God?
Why don’t You DO something?
Are You even LISTENING?
So many of us who have been in church for a long time think that Wrestling With God or entertaining doubt is sin-or, at best- unhealthy and proof of a weak faith.
But Scripture is filed from start to finish with God’s people asking God:
“Why?”
“Where are You?”
“What exactly are is Your plan here?”
Truth is, you can’t hide it. God KNOWS it anyway.
Some say faithprecludes doubt but I say faith is exactly what you cling to in the margins of doubt-when you have exhausted all the possibilities that exist in the physical, you-can-touch-it world and yet you KNOW there is MORE.
Even in my most doubtful moments I knew God was there. Even if I couldn’t see Him, even if I couldn’t hear Him, even if I couldn’t feel Him-I still knew He was there. Somewhere deep inside me I knew He was still God.
But I was trying to figure out how to re-engage with this God that wasn’t at all who I expected Him to be and didn’t act in ways I thought He should. The relationship had changed because I was not the person I used to be before I buried my son.
HE is the same, but I am most definitely NOT.
God invites us to bring Him our questions and our doubts. He says, “Come let us reason together.” Questions are how you mark the borders of what you know and find the edges of what you don’t.
God is not diminished by my desire to understand and make sense of my world-He doesn’t owe me an explanation-but He gives me freedom to ask the questions.
Wrestling is notUNBELIEF.Wrestling is the hard work of true faith.
Walk through the Hall of Faith in Hebrews 11-Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Gideon, Samuel, David-every. single. one. had questions for God.
God is not threatened by my wondering. His throne is in no danger due to my queries.
It is most often other believers who find the questions unsettling. Doubters can be shifted to the back pew-not because people are mean but because our presence is threatening. For someone yet to face the test of faith, our test can remind them that theirs may be coming.
I don’t want nor expect to have the last word, I believe that belongs to the Creator of the Universe. But I think He will hear my pleas.
In my trouble I called to the Lord, I cried out to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice. My call for help reached his ears.
Psalm 18:6 ICB
God is God of the day and God of the night-when I can’t feel Him, He’s still here.
He knows my frame-He made me.
He knows I’m strugging, I can’t hide it.
When I swallow my doubts instead of speaking them all I do is poison my own heart.
Lament is a biblical response to deep pain.
I have to exhale before I can inhale.
If my heart is full of unreleased anger and bitterness, then it has no room for the Spirit of God to move.
If I want to keep my faith, I’ve got to acknowledge my doubts.
I can’t stop the clock or the sun or the days rolling by.
Those of us who are more than a couple months along in this journey (or any journey that involves tragedy and loss) know that it is ABSOLUTELY POSSIBLEto feel worse than in the first few days.
Because as the edges of the fog lift and the reality of an entire lifetime looms before you the questions form and the doubt sinks in:
Where ARE You God?
Why don’t You DO something?
Are You even LISTENING?
So many of us who have been in church for a long time think that Wrestling With God or entertaining doubt is sin-or, at best- unhealthy and proof of a weak faith.
Trying to ignore or stuff our questions because they are uncomfortable or too hard to think about isn’t helpful. They just rattle around in our minds and burrow deeper into our hearts causing confusion and raising doubt.
One of the questions many bereaved parents desperately want to answer: Did God take my child?
These are my thoughts-ones I believe are backed by Scripture and align with what I know personally about God’s character.
They are the result of many months of wrestling. I offer them in hopes they will help another heart.
❤ Melanie
This is a question that comes up all the time in bereaved parents’ groups: Did God take my child?
Trust me, I’ve asked it myself.
How you answer this question can mean the difference between giving up or going on, between turning away or trusting.
So this is MY answer. The one I’ve worked out through study, prayer and many, many tears. You may disagree. That’s just fine. I only offer it because it might be helpful to some struggling and sorrowful soul.
Several recent conversations, comments and our family’s experience of losing little Holly, have reminded me again how much energy and effort it takes to work through the cosmic questions that rock every bereaved parent’s world.
When Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I no longer had the luxury of turning a blind eye to things like, “How do you reconcile God’s sovereignty with free will?” and, “What difference does prayer make?” or, “Why do bad things happen to ‘good’ people?”.
These are the questions that filled my mind and kept me awake at night after burying my son. Questions I was free to ignore before they took up residence in my soul and echoed in my head with every thump, thump, thump of my beating heart.
So I’m digging out some old posts where I share how I came to understand those questions, live with many (most?) unanswered yet hold fast to the truth that God’s faithful love and grace are sufficient and unending.
I hope it helps another heart.
❤ Melanie
We are a people who love a good mystery as long as it leads to a good ending-bad guys vanquished, questions answered, motives revealed and a tidy resolution.
But real life is rarely so neat and squared away.
Just consider your average doctor’s visit. Diagnosis is often a result of trial and error when a simple blood test or throat culture is unavailable to confirm or rule out a particular malady. Yet we blunder forward, trying this and that until something either works or the illness runs its course.
Relationships are even trickier. We stand toe-to-toe with others hoping we understand what they are saying or not saying, feeling or not feeling-all the while forced to act and react in the space between. It’s a wonder we aren’t all at war with one another.
And then there are the big “What ifs?” and “Whys?”
The cosmic questions that rock our world and threaten to undo us.
These are the questions that filled my mind and kept me awake at night after burying my son. Questions I was free to ignore before they took up residence in my soul and echoed in my head with every thump, thump, thump of my beating heart.
It took a very long time for me to learn to live with them unanswered. And there are still moments when I scream aloud and raise my fist to the sky, demanding an accounting.
But most days, I can rest in that space between the asking and the answer-if not exactly at peace-then at least in a state of suspended animation.
And that may really be all God expects of me this side of heaven.
Job never did get any answers.
He stood before God speechless and in awe.
That’s pretty much where I am right now.
I don’t have to like it.
I don’t have to understand it.
I only have to be willing to admit that He is God and I am not.
Job answered God:
“I’m convinced: You can do anything and everything. Nothing and no one can upset your plans. You asked, ‘Who is this muddying the water, ignorantly confusing the issue, second-guessing my purposes?’ I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me, made small talk about wonders way over my head. You told me, ‘Listen, and let me do the talking. Let me ask the questions. You give the answers.’ I admit I once lived by rumors of you; now I have it all firsthand—from my own eyes and ears! I’m sorry—forgive me. I’ll never do that again, I promise! I’ll never again live on crusts of hearsay, crumbs of rumor.”
