It hits you when you least expect it, ya know? At the mall or a football game. As you’re driving to work or cleaning out your car. Grief is sneaky. It can be quiet for a bit and let you feel like you’re healing, and you do. You do slowly but surely catch your breath from the initial constant waves that flood your heart and find your footing in a new normal, but I’ve realized that, this side of heaven, there may never be complete healing.
My dad had a wreck in the car rider line when I was in 8th grade. It was hilarious. My long red hair went flying in every direction because of the blow. We both had looks of total shock. It wasn’t his fault, so maybe that’s why I wasn’t even the slightest bit embarrassed, but we laughed about it the whole way home. I drove passed my Junior High today and that memory popped in my head. I kind of chuckled and then thought “I wonder if he remembers that” and do you know that I began to reach for my phone to text him? And then I remembered I couldn’t ask him. It broke my heart a little.
898 days I’ve lived without my dad on Earth. That’s a long time. You may think I shouldn’t “forget” that he’s gone like I did for a second today. But I lived WITH him here on Earth for 7,763 days (which was absolutely not long enough). When you look at those numbers next to each other, no wonder I still feel a bit lost some days. No wonder I still cry at memories. No wonder my heart still aches a little.
We got to bring our perfect baby boy home in January. And let me tell ya, being a Mama to that precious tiny human has filled me up and helped heal me in ways I hope he will never have to understand. He is exactly what my heart needed. I’m so thankful for the precious gift that he is.
But what I realized is that with this new season of joy came a new sense of sorrow nipping at its heels. Now I don’t only grieve for myself but I grieve for my baby boy who won’ t get to know his Papa. And in a weird way I grieve for my dad who won’t ever get to know his grandkids. It’s a selfish grief because I know that in eternity there’s no sadness or regret. No fear of missing out. He’s doing exactly what He was created to do, what we are all created to do, exalt our Heavenly Father. I’m so thankful for the comfort that perspective brings, but it doesn’t mean it’s not hard in the everyday, nitty-gritty details Earthside either.
I’ve struggled. It is why I haven’t written in a while. I am so incredibly happy. I love being a wife, a mom, and a teacher. I feel like this stage of life is what I’ll refer to as “the good ole days”. Most of my days really are so, so good.
But a lot of my days are also sad. I miss my dad. I will never stop missing him. And now, that sadness is just a part of me. It’s woven itself into the core of my being and coincides with my joy. I am both incredibly happy and incredibly sad and I’ve accepted that it’s okay to live that way.
Job’s story is one that most of us are familiar with. God allowed Satan to test Job in every way possible to see if Job would remain faithful to Him. In chapter 42 of Job, after the torture and the most unimaginable tragedy from the first 41 chapters has eased enough for Job to catch his breath he says, “I had heard rumors about You, but now my eyes have SEEN You.” Before all the suffering, Job hadn’t experienced God like he experienced Him through pain. When I picture him saying this, I picture shaky breath, a weary look in his eyes, and a feeble body. The price for intimacy with God is often so high. But it Is also so worth it.
At the end of Job, God restored all of Job’s possessions he had lost two-fold. Job lost 7,000 sheep. God have him 14,000. Job lost 3,000 sheep. God gave him 6,000. Job lost 500 donkeys. God gave him 1,000. Job lost 10 children. God gave him 10. Wait. Shouldn’t God have given him 20 children to keep with the pattern? Shouldn’t he have doubled the number of children just like he doubled the number of all of his livestock?
But he did. At the end of his life, Job had 20 children. The children that had been taken too early were still his children. They were still a part of him. Still a part of his family. In fact, I would go as far to say that at the end of chapter 42, Job felt a lot like I’ve been feeling the last six months. A beautiful mixture of joy and sorrow. A bearer of scars that are deep but a love that is deeper still. Job could never get back all that he lost during the fiery trial he was put through. Nothing could bring his children back just as nothing can bring my Dad back. And I can imagine the reality of that was enough to steal his breath on any given day as it still so often does mine. But Job also lived an abundant and steadfast life after the trial. His life was marked by loss and heartache, but it was also full of blessings and gratitude. Because these two can forever coexist inside a person and be used to draw us even closer to the Father. The grief keeps us dependent on the Father while the blessings are tangible gifts of his grace and goodness to us in the midst of deep loss.
Job used his deep rooted pain as a catalyst for praise. It’s almost as if you can hear him say “This still hurts and this is still hard, but You are still good.” And my heart echoes that very sentiment with every breath.
Candid Kat Tales 