A friend recently reminded me of something I used to say. "If anything ever happens to one of my kids, just lock me up and throw away the key, because I'll never be able to survive it." That is exactly how I felt right up to the day Jacob died. In fact, the day before, September 23, 2006, one of Jacob's classmates died of bone cancer. As we spoke of A.J. and his family after praying for them, I could not get my heart or mind around what the parents must have been going through. "How does a parent let go of their child? How does a mother let go of her son?" I asked aloud. Just thinking about it was painful and beyond my ability to comprehend.
When we arrived at the small, rural hospital at 2:30 in the morning and were told Jacob had not survived the accident, my world fell apart. I had a clear sense of God's voice comforting me on the flight to Athens, Georgia, the closest airport to the accident site. The comfort and reassurance was so great that I never cried. I continued to pray for Jacob, but I knew he was going to be fine. My focus turned to his friend who was in the car with him when the accident occurred. When the final word about Jacob's condition contradicted everything I felt God telling me, I felt betrayed, yet God was the only One I could turn to at that moment.
As the days and weeks passed, my mind went back and forth about God. He would go from being (in my mind) The Betrayer to The Comforter to The Liar to The Miracle Worker. Some days I'd have it out with God, shaking my fist and yelling, "How could you allow this to happen to my son?" Other days I'd say, "Thank you for being there for my son when he died and bringing him into Your presence in Heaven." A particular passage from the Bible had a profound effect on me. It says, "The righteous perish, and no one ponders (cherishes) it in his heart; devout men are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil." Isaiah 57:1 Jacob will never have to endure the evil of this world again.
No matter the state of my mind, heart or soul, God was always with me. Each time I kicked and screamed like a child at God, my outburst would end with an overwhelming comfort, as though God had placed me in His lap and pulled my head to his chest and rocked me. I felt an inner peace. At those moments and many other times throughout this journey since Jacob's death, I have wondered how people who do not believe in God survive such a tragedy. Then I realized that God does not ONLY comfort those who believe in Him. He even comforts those who curse Him and deny Him. Blessings are given to the trustworthy and upright as well as the scoundrels who prey on innocent people. God loves ALL of His children, even if they don't love Him. He never forces Himself upon anyone, for he is the ultimate of gentlemen, but He will always bring His presence and His comfort when it is needed. We simply need to be willing to receive it, even if we have no idea who brings us this peace, strength and comfort.
The sad thing (in my opinion) is that those who don't believe in God or recognize that it is Him who is comforting them have no idea how to find that comfort when it doesn't seem so apparent. When they are falling apart on the floor in a puddle of tears, who/what do they cry out to? Other people I guess, and hopefully someone who is reaching out a hand to offer help is reflecting the love of God and being an ambassador of comfort for Him. As soon as I begin to feel myself slipping into the dark abyss of sadness and despair, I know whose name to call and where to place my eyes. My eyes are on Him, and I look up as He pulls me out. I can't imagine falling into despair and having no idea how to find the way out.
In no way do I consider myself better than another mother who has lost a child and does not seek God as her Comforter. I just know that my journey, while excruciating, will be a little bit easier. There's also a beautiful light called Heaven awaiting me at the end of the tunnel. That is where I will be with Jacob again, just as we were before, only better. Even now I am with Jacob, but it does not satisfy the way it did when we both existed in this earthly realm. Yet our time together, as fabulous as it was, was only a shadow of what is to come. What lies ahead far exceeds even my greatest of expectations. How I long for that day!!!! But until then, my life still has purpose. That purpose has changed in some ways that are hard to accept now that Jacob is gone, but the purpose is still worthwhile and I am the only one who can fulfill MY purpose on this earth.
So, I have strength to get through today. Because I know I am here for a unique and specific purpose that no one else can accomplish, I have reasons to continue living and making a difference in this world while God still gives me breath. I also have so much to look forward to when my days in this realm of life are done. Without those things, I would never be able to pull myself out of bed. Some may see my faith as a crutch, but I see it as my greatest strength.
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2 comments:
Sandy,
How does one survive the loss of a child? It is a perplexing question for anyone who hasn't experienced the loss, but only witnessed its devastation in someone else, as you once identified with in your own self. It is not something we can truly grasp, can't even imagine with any accuracy because the depths of this kind of loss reach so far into the future, as well as saturating every passing moment in the present.
I have not lost a child. I can sympathize with you , but I cannot empathize with you and this scalding measure of your new reality because I fully comprehend you cannot possibly understand it unless you have lived it.
So why does a mom who hasn't lost a child read your blog? What do I gain from reading of the experiences of a mom who has? Perhaps the answer is at the crux of your statement of being unwilling to give up on life, "Because I know I am here for a unique and specific purpose that no one else can accomplish . . . ." Consider my current state of limbo: my son is alive & well - even thriving as a young adult exploring his place in this world. Nearly a year ago, however, we received the news that his National Guard unit would be deploying to war in the Middle East in the next 10 -12 months. Not surprisingly, when sharing this news with people over the passing months, their first reactions were to ask me "Doesn't that scare you?" My answer was always the same, "It is a long way off and much could change between now and then - worrying about it now would simply be a waste of time." And so I really did NOT worry about it.
Now his departure is much closer (weeks not months away) and things have changed. We have a new Commander In Chief, and the changing political climate both here and over there have altered the situation significantly; and so, yes, I am beginning to feel the fear. However, I am now beginning to realize that even though my focus is on trying to boost my son's morale & give him encouragement for the mission ahead, I myself need pretty much these same things in order to make it through my next 12 months. But there is more to it. I can live in increasing fear that the worst will happen in those sands so far away, and give up my life to a perpetual state of worry; or I can begin to prepare myself now for the possibility of a worst outcome.
I don't want to be where you are, Sandy. I don't want to experience a devastation and loss so overwhelming that it threatens to redefine my life forever. But when I read about the things that you have experienced and the things that you have learned since losing your precious Jacob, I see a light. You are not defined by your brokenness in losing a child. You have chosen instead to reflect the light. What a gift you have received! Even in the worst experience of your life, you have demonstrated that the One True God has gone beyond helping you to heal, to assisting you in helping others to heal; or in my case, helping me to see that healing from such a travesty is not only possible but transforming. And since nothing breeds fear like the unknown ("How does one survive the loss of a child?"), the shadows of fear in my mind are diminished by the power of the lessons you have shared. I'm glad you have begun writing again. Thank you. ~Debby M.
Debby,
I am humbled by your thoughtful comments. No one would blame you for feeling anxiety or fear, but it could easily take over your life and rob you of the joy of today. How do any of us stop worrying about our children? I guess the only answer is to lay your wonderful son down before God. Surrender him to the only One who can do anything to truly protect him. Maybe that's an odd comment coming from me considering that some of my first questions regarding Jacob's death were "Where were you God? Why didn't you protect my son? Didn't you hear my prayers asking you to surround him with angels of protection EVERY time he stepped into a car?" With time, God showed me that he never ONCE took His loving eye off of Jacob. In fact, he was up front and center at the moment of the accident. It didn't occur while God was busy tending to someone else. Only God can keep His eye on your precious son while he is so far away from home. I will be praying for you and your son during this difficult time, but I know that God already knows how this one turns out. He will reveal it to you day by day. I love you!
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