Wetting the shoulders of others.

Jacob and Emily

I know far too many parents who have lost children.

It’s been nearly 8 years since our son Jacob died of an overdose. Over those years we have been called upon a number of times to comfort parents that are new members to the club.

I remember the faces, the tears and the comfort provided by bereaved parents when we suddenly entered into our sorrows in late March 2014.

We received that phone call again on November 30th. A call from a bereaved sister to another bereaved sister to share the news that their cousin had just joined the club.

You know the journey all to well. You know what is ahead of them. You know the healing process and you know nothing but time will ease the endless pain.

You’re taken back when those calls come. Back to a time and place that you know all to well. A place of surreal numbness and unbelievable pain and a place you don’t want to return to but you must.

So we went to them. It’s best that words be few in these times. It’s a time to be silent and mostly listen to the hearts of the grieving. A time to embrace and wet each other’s shoulders.

I remember their joy when they discovered that they were going to be grandparents. We were so happy for them. Now that child is without a father. Their daughter in law is a widow and they are without their only son.

It’s easy to rejoice with those who rejoice. It’s not so easy to enter into familiar pain and weep with those who weep. But we go gladly remembering the club members who came to us in our first hours.

For those of us who are unfortunately familiar with the grief of losing a child it’s different. We have words of knowledge but for the most part they are better left unsaid. In time the bereaved will learn what we know and those comforting discussions will happen later down the road.

Perhaps the most common thing stated in the early stages of these horrific days is, “I don’t know what to say.” And we don’t. So I suppose it’s not even necessary to say that. But we do. And that’s OK too.

So we left to enter into the joys and sorrows of those we love and to, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Romans 12:15

Sometimes, especially in these times, letting our shoulders become tissues is the best and only thing we can do.

The Comforter has come

The image of a mother kneeling and lamenting at her sons coffin draped with an American flag has troubled me this week.

We know all too well the depth of sorrow the death of a child brings on a soul.

Grief grips you tightly. There were days that I thought I’d never be free from its grasp.

The mourners of those 13 kids will be comforted in the coming weeks and months. It will come in odd ways through various means.

God is the healing balm for their souls. It’s applied daily and slowly until the wounds develop a scar and the sharp pangs subside to subtle aches.

The ache and scars never leave however.

God employs his people in this therapy. I remember their faces, their prayers, their presence and comforting silence.

The Holy Spirit is our comforter. He blankets us with love, soothing the pain of the soul.

There will be comfort in the coming days for these bereaved. Compassionate empathy and comfort will be dispensed. Most likely through other gold star parents.

When comfort comes we know it is directly from God who dispenses through whatever means he chooses.

Nothing is wasted with God. Our pain is someone else’s gain. Let us use our painful past to comfort those in present distress. It’s a God thing. It’s how he comforts the afflicted.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.- 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

The saplings in our lives

I called my friend Barry when I was deep in grief and unloaded all my burdens on him.

I was angry. I was angry with people and circumstances that day. I spewed all my frustrations on my friend that sunny afternoon.

After my release of emotion I apologized for my rant. He replied, “Mike, if you are in the same place a year from now I’d be worried about you.”

Many years earlier before the death of my son Barry and I had a conversation about anger while sitting on his back porch.

He pointed at the enormous white pine in the back yard and made an observation.

He said, “You see that tree? When it was a sapling you could walk up and pull it out very easily with your hands. But now it has deep roots and years of growth. It will take a lot of hard work to remove it now.”

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If tomorrow never comes

I am not absolutely sure, but I think the death of a child might be the deepest pain that an individual can experience in life.

I am confident however it has been my deepest hurt in life. There are things I would do differently if I had known Jake would die at 22.

Tuned into XM radio the other day Tim McGraws famous song Live like you were dying began to play.

https://youtu.be/_9TShlMkQnc

As I listened to the words again I thought about our easily forgotten destiny.

We all know that everybody has an expiration date. It’s not a thought we rest on too long. It’s uncomfortable. But if we did it just might change us for the good.

If you knew you or a loved one had a week to live what would you do? What would be on your bucket list?

Not to be too dark but we all are on a death march. We aren’t promised tomorrow and if we knew that tomorrow would never come for us what would that change today?

Two condemned criminals on crosses next to Jesus were in that very spot. Hear the words of a man who began to live like he was dying and the gracious response to him by our Lord.

[41] And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” [42] And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” [43] And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23:41-43

Listen to the thief’s confessions about himself and his new faith in Jesus at deaths door. This is truly the beginning of living like he was dying and he received eternal life.

Today is the day of salvation. It’s the only day we presently have.

If we lived today, and every day, as our last day the world would be a much better place. Live like it is because it just might be. We aren’t promised tomorrow.

A teacher called grace

A teacher called Grace

Seven years have come and gone since our Jake passed in March of 2014.

Grief has been a teacher to Stacey and I (others also) through this difficult season of life.

I think the greatest lesson I have learned since that awful day is that the grace of God is without end. It is deeper than I ever imagined.

At my salvation I experienced Gods grace through faith. As I began to walk by faith his grace continued to be revealed to me. This is a wonderful experience.

At Jacobs death and the years that have followed I have learned more of Gods grace in the pain than in the days of pleasure. This is a wonderful experience as well.

Grief is a tool God used to teach of his boundless grace and strength. I didn’t enjoy the class but pain has taught us things about God that aren’t known apart from discomfort.

Seven years ago I was at my lowest and weakest point in life. It seemed unbearable but Jesus carried the burden with us the whole way, till this day.

Jesus taught us things about his grace that we never could have understood apart from losing our son.

There is grace in pain. A depth of grace that is discovered only in our weakest points in life.

God didn’t remove our pain. Jacob is gone and that is a continual ache in our hearts.

I hated the hurt and wanted it gone. But now I wouldn’t trade the pain for what I have gained and learned through it.

The apostle Paul experienced tremendous pain and Jesus refused to remove it. Paul also was instructed by a teacher named Grace.

Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:8-9

Wonderful things are learned in Gods classroom of pain. What have I learned most? Gods teacher is named Grace and she is more wonderful than I ever imagined or thought possible.

Grace and peace to you all. Mike