This was never the plan
Death is not a natural part of life. When God created man, he created him to be an eternal being. In Genesis 2, when God instituted marriage, it was to be a lifelong covenant. Sin had not yet entered the world; that happens in Genesis 3. Yup, the world was idyllic and perfect for three whole chapters. In the midst of the Garden of Eden, the beauty and perfection of God's presence with his creation, He instituted the idea of marriage. This joining together of man and wife was never intended to end. Man was never intended to "end". Death came on the scene in Genesis 3 as a result of sin. To date, exactly one person has died, come back to life, and never died again. For the billions of us who are not Jesus Christ, death is the end of our story here on Earth. Just as death was never intended for God's creation, neither was grief. Grief is the result of great loss; it doesn't have to specifically be death. Humans grieve all kinds of losses. Grief is the daily reminder that this was not how life was meant to be. Marriage was instituted for eternity; death cuts it off at the knees.
Tonight I was reading the great literary tome called Google. There are thousands of quotes about grief. Some of them are just ridiculous. Some are really snarky. As I read through many of these quotes about grief, I realized something: grief was never part of God's plan. Reading thoughts that speak to grief being the evidence of love, or that grief is an emotional necessity because we pay a price for love, or that grief never ends, it just changes shape over time; something just seems...wrong about all of it. I feel grief. Its real. I cry multiple times a day. My Christmas tree (artificial this year because I couldn't bring myself to go the Christmas tree farm and cut down a tree like we always did) is pretty much bare. There are, maybe, 6 ornaments on it. No stockings hanging from the mantle, no boughs of pine wrapped around the banisters. I physically can't stomach the idea of decorating for one of my favorite holidays. I'm exhausted, weary, and worn out. I'm angry and devastated. I'm confused and foggy. I think about the fact that its only been one month, and there are countless months to go, and the energy drains right out of my body as if I've been pierced in an artery. I watch my children try and understand all that has happened, and it physically hurts. I listen to my son yell and scream, throw things against the wall, cry giant crocodile tears; this is only the beginning. I watch my daughter point out every picture of her dad, and exclaim, "That's my daddy!" My heart crumbles to think that she will never actually remember her dad.
I grieve the loss of my best friend, my husband, my partner. I grieve for the life I thought we would have. I grieve for my children whose lives have been completely altered. I grieve for my husband who never knew the impact he had on others. The perma-lump in my throat, the rapid heartbeat, the escape of all breath as if I've been gut-punched; this is my day-to-day reality. It feels wrong to laugh, but I'm so tired of crying. I can't seem to keep my house presentable, yet the thought of cleaning makes me exhausted. I have become dependent on my parents and my father-in-law to accomplish the most basic of day-to-day activities, and that feels humiliating. I had a student, a very well-meaning 2nd grade student, ask me the other day if I was married. I didn't know how to answer him. I'm so weary of being sad, yet, I don't exactly want to be happy. I can utter the words, "My husband passed away," without bawling uncontrollably. I don't know if that is a victory or a defeat.
I am human. I see life as a finite span between two points: birth and death. As a believer in Jesus Christ, I also believe that when my physical body experiences death, my soul remains alive eternally with Jesus. The tri-une God exists outside of space and time. God sees all of time at once. When he created man, he knew that three chapters later, man would disobey him and sin would enter the world. Before time began, God knew that he would send his Son, fully God and fully man, to Earth. He would be born in the most primitive of settings to the most nobody couple alive. He would live 33 years, and, while he was only in ministry for three of the 33, it would be his death that would ultimately give life to the people God so desperately loves. Grief was NEVER a part of God's plan. He knew it would exist; he knew it had to be part of the story, but he NEVER intended us to experience grief. Make no mistake, though, God understands and feels every scintilla of grief along with us. God created these amazing places called Heaven and Earth. He created animals, plants, oceans, and people. His intention was for all of his creation to live in perfect harmony with him for all eternity. Greater than his desire to live in harmony with all creation, however, was his desire for his creation to CHOOSE to worship and love him. Bottom line: God doesn't need us. He WANTS us. He didn't have to allow free will. Humanity wouldn't have known the difference. But, what makes love so special? What makes loving another worth it? For me, it was the choice. I got to choose the person I would marry. I got to choose to live life with him. I got to choose to love him, and keep loving him, even when it was really hard. What makes God's love so special? He loves us enough to let us choose whether or not we want to love him back. He loves us enough to let us walk away if we want to, and yet, never lets us out of his sight. He loves us enough to take us back a thousand times over, even when he knows we will walk away again. God loves me so much that he gave me Andrew to love on Earth. I used to say to Andrew, "The only person who loves you more than me is God." The deep, true, covenant love Andrew and I shared was a glimpse into the level and depth of love God has for his creation. And the depth of grief I feel at the loss of Andrew here on Earth, that is nothing compared to the depth of grief God feels as person after person rejects Him.
Grief sucks. Death sucks. Loss sucks. God is good. God is love. God is here. God grieves, too. My pain is temporary. The Apostle Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:17-18, "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, and what is unseen is eternal." Eternity is what awaits me on the other side of grief. Grief is temporary. It is what is seen. The beauty, joy, majesty, perfection of Heaven is what is eternal. Just because I can't see it right now doesn't mean it isn't there. Jesus told me that Heaven is real and there's a place for me there. And if anyone knows and understands the pain I'm in right now, it's Jesus. That isn't just church talk. That is a truth that I cling to in the lowest of lows, and the highest of highs. Jesus KNOWS. He KNOWS because he's been there. And Jesus knows what awaits me on the other side of all of this, because he's been there, too.
Tonight I was reading the great literary tome called Google. There are thousands of quotes about grief. Some of them are just ridiculous. Some are really snarky. As I read through many of these quotes about grief, I realized something: grief was never part of God's plan. Reading thoughts that speak to grief being the evidence of love, or that grief is an emotional necessity because we pay a price for love, or that grief never ends, it just changes shape over time; something just seems...wrong about all of it. I feel grief. Its real. I cry multiple times a day. My Christmas tree (artificial this year because I couldn't bring myself to go the Christmas tree farm and cut down a tree like we always did) is pretty much bare. There are, maybe, 6 ornaments on it. No stockings hanging from the mantle, no boughs of pine wrapped around the banisters. I physically can't stomach the idea of decorating for one of my favorite holidays. I'm exhausted, weary, and worn out. I'm angry and devastated. I'm confused and foggy. I think about the fact that its only been one month, and there are countless months to go, and the energy drains right out of my body as if I've been pierced in an artery. I watch my children try and understand all that has happened, and it physically hurts. I listen to my son yell and scream, throw things against the wall, cry giant crocodile tears; this is only the beginning. I watch my daughter point out every picture of her dad, and exclaim, "That's my daddy!" My heart crumbles to think that she will never actually remember her dad.
I grieve the loss of my best friend, my husband, my partner. I grieve for the life I thought we would have. I grieve for my children whose lives have been completely altered. I grieve for my husband who never knew the impact he had on others. The perma-lump in my throat, the rapid heartbeat, the escape of all breath as if I've been gut-punched; this is my day-to-day reality. It feels wrong to laugh, but I'm so tired of crying. I can't seem to keep my house presentable, yet the thought of cleaning makes me exhausted. I have become dependent on my parents and my father-in-law to accomplish the most basic of day-to-day activities, and that feels humiliating. I had a student, a very well-meaning 2nd grade student, ask me the other day if I was married. I didn't know how to answer him. I'm so weary of being sad, yet, I don't exactly want to be happy. I can utter the words, "My husband passed away," without bawling uncontrollably. I don't know if that is a victory or a defeat.
I am human. I see life as a finite span between two points: birth and death. As a believer in Jesus Christ, I also believe that when my physical body experiences death, my soul remains alive eternally with Jesus. The tri-une God exists outside of space and time. God sees all of time at once. When he created man, he knew that three chapters later, man would disobey him and sin would enter the world. Before time began, God knew that he would send his Son, fully God and fully man, to Earth. He would be born in the most primitive of settings to the most nobody couple alive. He would live 33 years, and, while he was only in ministry for three of the 33, it would be his death that would ultimately give life to the people God so desperately loves. Grief was NEVER a part of God's plan. He knew it would exist; he knew it had to be part of the story, but he NEVER intended us to experience grief. Make no mistake, though, God understands and feels every scintilla of grief along with us. God created these amazing places called Heaven and Earth. He created animals, plants, oceans, and people. His intention was for all of his creation to live in perfect harmony with him for all eternity. Greater than his desire to live in harmony with all creation, however, was his desire for his creation to CHOOSE to worship and love him. Bottom line: God doesn't need us. He WANTS us. He didn't have to allow free will. Humanity wouldn't have known the difference. But, what makes love so special? What makes loving another worth it? For me, it was the choice. I got to choose the person I would marry. I got to choose to live life with him. I got to choose to love him, and keep loving him, even when it was really hard. What makes God's love so special? He loves us enough to let us choose whether or not we want to love him back. He loves us enough to let us walk away if we want to, and yet, never lets us out of his sight. He loves us enough to take us back a thousand times over, even when he knows we will walk away again. God loves me so much that he gave me Andrew to love on Earth. I used to say to Andrew, "The only person who loves you more than me is God." The deep, true, covenant love Andrew and I shared was a glimpse into the level and depth of love God has for his creation. And the depth of grief I feel at the loss of Andrew here on Earth, that is nothing compared to the depth of grief God feels as person after person rejects Him.
Grief sucks. Death sucks. Loss sucks. God is good. God is love. God is here. God grieves, too. My pain is temporary. The Apostle Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:17-18, "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, and what is unseen is eternal." Eternity is what awaits me on the other side of grief. Grief is temporary. It is what is seen. The beauty, joy, majesty, perfection of Heaven is what is eternal. Just because I can't see it right now doesn't mean it isn't there. Jesus told me that Heaven is real and there's a place for me there. And if anyone knows and understands the pain I'm in right now, it's Jesus. That isn't just church talk. That is a truth that I cling to in the lowest of lows, and the highest of highs. Jesus KNOWS. He KNOWS because he's been there. And Jesus knows what awaits me on the other side of all of this, because he's been there, too.
You write so beautifully, Katy! Thank you for sharing your walk through grief and the insight you gain with evey step. I continue to be fed by your steadfast faith! I pray for you, your babies and your family daily. I pray that God will continue to stand along side of you all and bring you peace. You may not feel, "strong," right now, but you are an amazing woman who is sharing your faith with us, during a very private time of pain and sorrow.
ReplyDeleteBlessings~