Monday, November 4, 2019

Spelunking


I've been spelunking.























...exploring the depths of this new normal. I've questioned the peace and dove down into the pain. I examined thoughts that were previously shelved.  I opened the drawer and pulled out each piece of the loss. Once again, I laid each piece out and brought them into the light.  And the jury is in and the verdict is read, I choose to trust God.    

"With the birth of a child our lives change instantly, we love more, we feel more, we hope more.  

"With the death of a child, our lives change beyond all measure.  All we can do is love our children in the time we have them, love them without end."

This quote is from a series titled Grantchester and was a pivotal statement that drew all the haphazard pieces laying out on the table together into one cohesive position where I have chosen to continue to stand.  It gave me renewed permission to embrace the peace I have surrounding the loss of my son Robbie.  

My decision is not for everyone.  We are as unique as our circumstances.  I simply offer this for those who have been given a sense of peace after the greatest loss a parent can walk through, so they would perhaps hesitate before they throw the peace away and opt for continued sadness.

I had the absolute pleasure to raise two boys,  to love two boys and to have the hope that those boys ushered into my life.   

As a woman of faith, I know that I arrived in this world with nothing and will leave this world with nothing.  My faith reminds me that our children are God's, as are we, and that I was given the distinct honor of raising two of God's beloved children.


I have to remember that it wasn't all the times I told them to be careful that kept them alive.    There were events and experiences that were for them alone to wade through that had nothing to do with me but had everything to do with their life and the story God was writing into their lives.   Do I understand the how and the why's in the story?  Not for a minute but I trust the one who writes it. 

It truly breaks my heart to see the already suffering mistakenly claim responsibility for life-changing events that they have no control over. 

"Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matt 6:27) or if I might have the freedom to add,  can add a single day to their children's life?

My thinking could be and was for a miserable period of time, well, what if I didn't have to raise the boys as a single mother, Robbie might still be alive.  What if Robbie didn't get into that car accident, he may not have decided he liked pain medications, or if he wasn't bitten by that water moccasin Maybe if Robbie had moved in a third time to live with us he wouldn't have gone out that night and gotten himself killed. The what-if train will drive you into a land of no answers and continued trickery as if you were the one who held control over life and death.  

I was numb for the first two years after Robbie died.  Those years were put into someone else's pocket and they moved away.   I heard and listened to others grieving the loss of their children.  I knew their pain, felt their pain and decided to pull mine out again and feel it,  all the rough edges, sharp edges,  the hardness of it all and the bitterness.  I questioned the peace I had.  I dissected it, doubted it, argued with it and was ready to turn my back on it and begin to wail.   

At one point I even came to the conclusion that something was deeply wrong with me.  That the peace I was experiencing was an illusion I used to escape living in the land of grief.  I went into that land again.  Wore the sadness again and what I found was the sadness didn't fit me anymore.  It was a garment I wore for a time that isn't comfortable now.  Do I still get sad?  Of course I do, but it isn't something that lingers for long.  

"Oh, she really didn't love her son if she can put aside her grief."  So grateful to God that I don't have to live seeking man's approval.   If God gives you peace and says trust me, be thankful.  



The amount of your grief is not commensurate to how much you loved your child.  I learned I don't have to continue to grieve hard to prove I loved Robbie and I don't have to grieve long to prove I LOVED ROBBIE.  If love could have kept him alive he would be living.  But if Love decided to bring him home, I won't turn my back on trust and question His Love.  I know God loves my son greater than I ever could.   

Without faith, this would be impossible.  Oh, my heart breaks for the grieving who don't have hope in a future where every tear will be wiped from their eyes. 

My prayer for all the beloved brokenhearted parents in grief is that the God of all comfort covers your sorrow with a love that heals and grants you a peace that goes beyond any earthly understanding until you hold your loved one again.      


"I will hold you in my heart Robbie until I can hold you in heaven".  


Cave Photo by Devon Janse van Rensburg on Unsplash

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