This blog is for all those who know the indescribable pain of losing a child.
This blog is for all those whom I pray will never know the indescribable pain of losing a child.
One of these days I’ll probably lose some readers who just can’t handle the dark stuff we often talk about. If you have to go, I get it. What some of us are dealing with is hard. It is unbelievably dark. It is a depth of pain that ebbs and flows but never quite goes away.
Some days the pain recedes into the distance and I am able to experience great joy. Those days I more than manage to live and thrive. In the ebb and flow, there is life and living, with an occasional twinge or reminder out there on the edges ready to make itself known…
This past weekend was not one of those times. I had to fight my way through an incredible obsession. I was consumed with thoughts of driving to Gulfport and digging my son up out of the grave and bringing him home. the
Like I said, dark thoughts. Terrible thoughts. Thoughts no parent should ever have to think.
And yet we do.
Our number is legion and growing every day.
God help us all.
Please don’t try to tell me God understands (although I am sure He does, but that is hardly comforting given what usually comes next). Yes, He went through the loss of His own son in tragic circumstances, but His son came back to life on the third day.
And the rest of us? We are still waiting…
Time does not heal all wounds. These wounds may scab over, but every time we encounter a newly grieving parent–or hear of another tragedy or heartache, the scab is violently ripped off anew. We would like to grieve with you and we try, but our pain once again becomes all we can see and more than we can bear.
The following song was heard at church this past Sunday as the church honored her high school graduates…
See the hands, see the face,
see the miracle of God’s grace.
Now we come as many have before
to place the child in the hands of the Lord.
A child will come into our lives with open hearts, open eyes.
We surround them with a love outpoured
and place the child in the hands of the Lord.
Through every step, the child will grow and change,
there will be joy, there will be pain.
So now we come to join this day
and vow to teach, to guard and pray,
that when they fail and when they soar,
they are held by the hands of the Lord.
And when our hands must let them go,
by faith our hearts will always know
that whatever life may have in store,
we place the child into the hands of the Lord.
There is comfort in those words.
There is unbelievable agony in those words.
It is comforting to know God holds our children’s future secure.
Until He doesn’t. At least in this world.
I am so glad your children/ our children get a chance to thrive. I pray they continue to do so.
But those of us who have lost a child… we know they are safe in the hands of the Lord and mad at the same time that they are.
And like David of old, we cry, my son, my son…