When my little baby went to heaven before he was even born, I experienced a very profound grief.
Recently, a very dear friend of mine experienced a terrible loss. It was not the sort of loss that everyone would be able to associate with, but it was – nevertheless – the sort of loss that for this friend of mine was a terrible blow…
And I have been reflecting on this loss over the last few weeks. You see, it is one thing to understand a loss theoretically, and quite another to experience it physically in the swelling of your eyes with tears and the stabbing in your chest with pain. It is one thing to understand that a thing is going to hurt with your head, and quite another to feel that pain in your muscles and bones. It is one thing to know theoretically that grief can cause a person to lose their appetite, but quite another thing to understand that it becomes almost impossible to swallow one’s food when grief is overwhelming…
When my little baby went to heaven before he was even born, I experienced a very profound grief. It was the sort of grief that literally took my voice away. It was not just that I could not breathe, it was that I could not even speak. I could not answer the phone to speak to people who cared about me. I could not smile and get on with it. I could not go through the motions of my life as though nothing had happened. Of course, to the outside world, things continued as usual. I got my children to school, I got myself to work, I cleaned my home and looked after my family, but inside my soul, I was completely and utterly lost.
That period of time was for me a period of complete and utter darkness such as I have never known before and have not known since…
And I have been reflecting on that today, because the loss of a mere creature or thing (and without any disrespect for that very precious soul of my very precious child, I understand that he, like me, is a mere creature), caused me to feel the loss of my ETERNAL GOD. It was during that time that I doubted the existence of God and raged at Him (knowing that He is real despite all that I said). And it was during that time that God held me closely and cared for me like an injured bird or a frightened puppy. He did not rage back at me. He did not punish me further. He just waited inside my heart with infinite patience, until I could see that God is perfect goodness and turns all things to the good.
And then – on the day that I was finally done with my spiritual tantrum, my almost complete rejection of God – God called me to Him, and my heart saw Him there. And there was nothing that I had done to deserve it. In fact, my behaviour had merited punishment and not reward. And still, as I prayed my prayers for my little niece who was so sick, through Grace and no merit of my own, God came and called me home. And in an unsolicited instant, my heart grew whole again, and I realised that I am a daughter of the King, and as such I do not lose anything… When my precious precious child went to heaven, he was not lost to me – he was gained to eternal life. And now, I am able to understand (as I understood in that instant of enlightenment) that I did not lose a child, I gained a Saint… And understanding that, I have a different view about loss now… Even when it hurts…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.