The Nearness of God

I will always remember how sick I felt the first time someone suggested that through Jacob's death I would gain. Gain what? They meant I'd gain valuable things like insight, compassion, wisdom, etc. As far as I was concerned, I far preferred to remain blind, mean and ignorant but still have my son. I'd give up every positive "gain" in order to have Jacob back again. That's not my option, however. I have to live with what has happened.

From the moment I learned the car accident had left Jacob dead and his friend hanging on to life, I knew I had a choice as to how I would live my life going forward. As I already stated, in those first days, I was not the least bit interested in what I could possibly gain from Jacob's death. At the same time, I kept saying to myself and others, "I don't want Jacob's death to be in vain." By refusing to let myself "gain" and be transformed through Jacob's death, I was the one who was guilty of allowing his death to be in vain. My stubborn refusal to let beauty arise from ashes was also disregarding or showing a lack of respect for the victorious and miraculous battle Jacob's friend was fighting to stay alive and then to rehabilitate. It was almost as though I could hear Jacob's voice saying, "Mom, if you don't allow my death and Matt's brave struggle bring forth positive attitudes and changes, then my death as well as Matt's hard work HAVE been in vain." They were not only going to be in vain, but they were going to be the breeding ground of destruction and pain. How could I possibly do that to my son? How could I do that to his wonderful and amazing friend?

Knowing that my greatest comfort came as I read Scripture and prayed, I began to press into my relationship with God all the more. I leaned on Him more than any other time in my life. He would speak to my spirit, especially when I felt fearful about Jacob's final moments and his experience of entering Heaven. Jacob's eternal life in Heaven was not in question, but whether or not he was lonely or frightened during those moments of transition from his earthly body nagged at my heart and mind. During those times, I could hear God's voice reminding me, "I was with him, and he is here with Me now."

God even allowed me a vision only ten days after the accident. I was suspended above Jacob's car and I could see him in the vehicle. It was dark and raining, but I could still see things clearly. A huge, black hand wrapped its fingers around Jacob's torso and pulled him out of the car. Jacob was unconscious and slumped forward, so he didn't struggle or show any fear. A loud voice could be heard, and it said, "I'm going to tear this family apart!" At that moment I saw a figure come from the right and I instantly "knew" who it was. Jesus gently took Jacob's right arm with both hands and firmly stated, "Let him go! This one is Mine!" The hand released Jacob immediately, and Jacob's head lifted as though he was now alert, but still somewhat groggy. He said nothing. Jesus then left with Jacob. Four months later, when we visited the accident site for the first time, the location matched my vision, even the positioning of the vehicle was the same.

My nearness to God was unlike anything I had ever known during those first months. Rather than stopping to pray periodically, it was as if I was in a constant dialogue with God. For the most part, that has remained, but I don't talk or hear Him as much. There is more silence, but not in a bad way. The sense of "scales falling from my eyes" was what I experienced. I was seeing things as I had never seen them before. Even when I closed my eyes, vivid colors would swirl around. Things I had never noticed before caught my attention. My hearing was altered. I could not physically hear any better, but I heard things I never heard before. On more than one occasion, I heard Jacob's voice. Once, he even said, "Hey, Mom!" which is the way he would greet me. This all may sound terribly strange and scary, but I never felt more alive and "in tune" than ever before. Nearly a year after Jacob's death, I literally heard a male voice speak a phrase while my husband was out running and my daughter was sleeping. The phrase made no sense, but I shared it with friends and family anyway. By that afternoon, the phrase made perfect sense because of the way the day's events unfolded. Many of us were in awe of how a group of words that made no sense, suddenly had full meaning.

The nearness of God was so intense that I was reminded several times of the story in Scripture of Moses going up on Mount Sinai where he stood in the presence of God. When he returned to the people below, he had to veil his face because his face was so radiant after that encounter. Each time Moses entered the Lord's presence and then spoke to the people, his face was radiant from having been in the presence of the Lord. In the weeks and months following Jacob's death, there were a number of occasions when people, even complete strangers, told me that I was "glowing." One time, two men working at a desk in an office building in Atlanta jumped when they saw me walk in. I wondered why they had such a reaction. The first one said, "This may sound strange, but you are glowing! I mean you are really glowing." The other guy said with his eyes wide open, "It's true! You are!" If they only knew I had lost my son months earlier. The only explanation for me glowing was the nearness of God's presence in my life to help me survive.

God is always near, even when we don't believe He exists. When we are grieving, He draws nearer still. If we invite Him in with hungry hearts, He is like skin on skin. It will be known, not only to us, but to those around us. Allow God, no INVITE God to draw near to you. He will. And your face will show the evidence, even in your most desperate hour.