Embracing Uncertainty: Finding Hope After Loss

Here’s another post I shared awhile back but is worth revisiting.

Once again I find myself afraid to make plans because circumstances beyond my control (beyond ANYONE but God’s control) have reminded me that human plans are oh, so fragile.

It’s tempting to allow my heart to retreat to that awful place that felt safe after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven: Don’t plan and you won’t be disappointed.

But my Shepherd King has led me gently these past years to a place of real safety.

MY plans may fail but HIS will never be thwarted.

It took me nearly two years to hang a wall calendar again.  It took that long, plus some, to add anything to it besides close family birthdays and doctor’s appointments.

I would record what I did AFTER the fact, but I just couldn’t let my heart make plans.

Because I had made planslots and lots of plans-before Dominic ran ahead to heaven unexpectedly and wrecked them all.

There’s another reason looking forward is hard on my heart:

No matter how wonderful the event, no matter how anticipated the birth, or wedding, or graduation, or party-there will always, always, always be one person missing.

Sometimes, I still find making firm plans difficult.  

I warn friends that I may get up the “morning of” and decide that I just cannot do it.  The closest ones (the only ones I really have left) totally understand and never pressure me otherwise.

As the years have passed, I’m now able to look a little bit further into the distance. I’m able to pencil in some fun things more than a week in advance.

I can look up ideas on Pinterest again-ideas for birthday gifts months away, for dinner table decorations and for craft projects to occupy the hottest parts of summer days.

I’ve even boldly formed a ministry, { http://heartacheandhope.org } and hosted retreats and meetings for a whole year!

So if you are in the early days and find thinking about tomorrow too daunting, take heart, dear one.

Twelve years later and I’ve learned to take Dominic WITH me as I walk into tomorrow after tomorrow without his physical presence.

I’m finding ways to keep him close, to have him near, to share him with others so that the vibrant man he was (and still IS-in heaven) is remembered and honored.

The fact is that tomorrow comes whether I am dragged kicking and screaming into the new day or whether I go willingly, with purpose and with grace.

I am trying to choose purpose and grace.

Sometimes it’s really, really hard.

But when I do-it’s worth it.

sometimes helps me wake up brene brown

Where Is God in the Suffering?

It’s not uncommon for those of us who have faced the fiery trial of child loss to wonder if God is still listening, still cares and remains near.

Pain is such a giant presence, taking up all the space in our hearts, that there is barely room to imagine a good and loving God could be part of this.

I’ll be honest, when the deputy brought the news of Dominic’s death, peace did NOT descend on me like a dove. Unearthly howls filled my foyer and I dropped to my knees, begging it not to be true.

But I knew that my feelings weren’t always (or even often) the best arbiters of truth so even then I recited facts out loud to my shattered heart. God is with us. God will sustain us. God’s grace and mercy are sufficient.

And God has been with us, IS with us and sustains us.

Now our family faces another kind of awful.

I see my adult children choosing brave and compassion and steeling themselves against what might be while hoping, hoping, hoping things turn out better than predicted.

One of my favorite passages in the Old Testament is the story of Hagar and Ishmael in the desert. Abraham sent them away because Sarah was jealous for Isaac to receive all his father’s love and energy.

It’s the only time (as far as I know) a human named God.

Hagar calls the Lord, El Roi, “the God who sees me”, because He spoke to her and promised a future for her forsaken son.

I believe that while our Heavenly Father does not always intervene in miraculous ways, He always SEES us in our suffering. He does not abandon us. He does not condemn us to walk this rocky path alone.

I don’t understand or even always like what God allows. I can’t fit my life story into a neat box labeled “Blessed by God”. Many days feel like I’m being beaten and bruised, not blessed.

But I do not think I am left alone.

We just celebrated Christmas and the gift of Immanuel-God with Us. In suffering, we have to hold on to that truth.

When I am afraid, I remind my heart of the fact that the Creator of All Things chose (voluntarily chose!) to become flesh. He chose to subject Himself to the vagaries of human life. He actively entered the world of His creation for the express purpose of proving His love for us (for me!).

Jesus is love made flesh. The Babe in the manger is God’s promise that He is with us and He is for us.

So, where is God in my suffering?

He is here.

As close as my next breath.