I’ve struggled with this post. Writing and re-writing, still not able to express what I‘m feeling. This life has taught me that everyone has a story. Most stories lead us to ask, “Why does God allow suffering?” I’ve been asking that for over a year now, and I want to share a thought. Well, not just the last year, if I’m honest, I have not led a charmed life. More on that later, but for now it’s surviving grief.
This time a year ago I conceived Kai, during a time of great trouble. September was the beginning of an episode where I watched my entire life be shaken and torn. My husband took a stand that led to a few influential people in our church asking for his resignation. Wow! That sentence makes it seem easy. It wasn’t. Three months of meeting after meeting where 3 or sometimes 4 men held the rest hostage. The only way forward was severing, cutting off, throwing away Jon’s ministry. Many have faced cut backs and lay offs these days, and they know the torturous stress these times bring. What about the house? Should we sell it now? Should we uproot and leave or wait on the Lord? Every day brought new stress and more false accusations. We stood, silent, waiting.
Meanwhile, I was watching my spiritual mom waste away from cancer. Visiting her once a week for a little while, I learned to empty a chest tube that relieved the build up of fluid on her lungs. She became like a child, needing constant attention. In those last days, I saw one of the strongest Christians I know have to moment by moment claim that truth of scripture as she faced death.
After burying one of the most significant women in my life, we returned to yet another meeting, another grilling session. My husband walked into his meeting. Me, 2 months pregnant, we faced the loss of our whole lives. 5 years of work gone. Our first house bought a mere 8 months ago, gone. Our community gone. Kids’ school gone. My job gone. What about health insurance? What about the baby? That meeting gave way to a final meeting of the entire church to decide our fate. Pain. Unadulterated pain.
We lived through it. Beaten, but we lived, waiting for the fall out. So many hurting lives because forgiveness is hard for humans to do. I wanted to give up. I wanted to leave. Escape to some quiet place, where I could heal. But that’s never been my calling. Stand up. Keep going. No time to stop.
All I wanted to do was sit on my front porch and enjoy my roses while holding my blessing. The little blessing that kept me holding on. My little Kai. I can not describe the devastation of holding him in death, and still my soul refused to die.
Why? Because all of creation groans under the weight of sin. Sin is still present and active today. Whether Believer or not we feel the effects: war, sickness, famine,… death. Here I sit with death in my very arms. My flesh failed. I have an empty cradle. Is every war the fault of the those who die? No. Is every sickness inflicted because it is deserved? No. Is every death the fault of the mommy who holds her child in her arms? No. No. No. In every situation, we cry out, “Save us! Save us!” And a loving Savior says, “I have.”
Remember, Jesus stepped out of heaven, submitting himself to a criminal’s death. Death on the cross, the electric chair of the ancient world. Jesus did that to save our souls, not set up a kingdom on earth for us. Jesus’ closest followers the Disciples missed it too. They wanted him to throw off Roman occupation, and set himself up as king. But Jesus came for a greater work. He came to bring salvation to the whole world, and because of that we wait with the Lord as he does not delay His promise, but is patient, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance. Until Jesus comes again all of humanity will continue to suffer death, war, sickness…etc.
How does this help me? I grieve like the women in all generations before me who have lost, but Jesus is still with me. Yes, I have wept, wailed, with my tears soaked the rug in the bathroom where my knees gave way in the pain of my loss. My heart is in pieces, but God still loves me. Who can separate me from this love? Can affliction or anguish or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No. Not death nor life nor angels nor rulers nor things present, not things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will have the power to separate me from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
I didn’t die that day. Hope remains.
Pain upon pain. Betrayal. False accusation. Humiliation. Death. Of life. Death of ministry. Such loss. What a great hope we have in the resurrection life of Christ. What a great hope we have in him who promises to wipe away every tear. What a great hope we have in the promise that with the very comfort we receive, we can comfort others.
Bless you. Thanks for sharing your story. That takes a lot of courage.
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