It is Well

It’s been 6 ½ months without him.  That’s 188 days or 4,512 hours. I cry every day. Not every day is the deep sobs, but every day I think of him and tears fill my eyes.  And I’m okay with that.  I really wouldn’t want it any other way just yet.  I miss him more every day.  The ache to see him, to hear his voice, the sound of him moving through the house and to throw my arms around him remain.  As life continues to move forward, I am becoming more aware of my triggers and at times still caught off guard by memories and milestones that hit harder than expected.  A new school year starting and friends getting driving permits are just a few.  Laundry is one of my daily triggers.  Having 4 boys, they all end up wearing each others’ clothes, so a few of Jake’s things still come through the wash and I cry.  Oddly enough if none of his stuff comes through I cry anyway, so either way I stand at the opening of the dryer and cry.

This crying thing is really nothing new for me.  I’m one of those sentimental, hopeless-romantics that cry during Hallmark commercials.  Every sentimental moment in a movie the boys are eyeballing me to see if I’m wiping away tears. Yes! I’m a sap.  But really! Who doesn’t cry when “Johnny” sneaks in Christmas morning, finds his baby sister and together they turn on the coffee pot and wait to surprise the rest of the family  Yep, I cry at graduations, pastor’s ordinations, flag ceremonies, when babies are born, during songs at church, and sometimes from just watching an old couple hold hands.  That’s just who I am.  So multiply that by a lot and imagine me now.  The bad thing is I don’t really like to cry in front of people.  Don’t get me wrong a couple tears is okay, but not this mass-producing snot and drool cry of deep grief.  It truly amazes me and grosses me out, the amount of mucus produced.  As much as I hate to admit it, I need my good cries.  It really, really sucks being alone, feeling so incredibly broken, but I am beginning to understand that grief is, by its very nature, a lonely process.  Even married friends, who walk this path, have described it to me this way.  The grief journey is so very unique and particular to each person and relationship, no one has the exact same path.  I think that may be why so many relationships fail after the death of a child.  Expectations of comfort fail to meet the horrific ache inside.  As a Christian with a strong and deep personal relationship with Christ, I can honestly tell you that even that has failed to help ease the ache during those horrific sobs.  If Christ, himself, leaves me wanting in those moments, who could I possibly think could step in His place…absolutely no one.  It aches to the deepest part of my soul.

The irony is that, it’s in that deep ache, the place of extreme loneliness, where fear and gratitude collide to produce within me the healing balm that soothes my soul.  It make absolutely no sense to me, but I need this and to not cry every day, at least right now, would be so much worse.

Romans 4 talks about the faith of Abraham.  In verse 17 the author makes this statement, “He (Abraham) is our father in the sight of God, in whom he believed- the God that gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.” 

That verse has always intrigued me, but this morning as I was listening to music the song “It is Well.” came on and that verse came to mind.  “Though it all, though it all my eyes are on you. And though it all, it is well with me”.  I’d just like to say, it is NOT at all “well with me” right now.  I miss Jake, I want him here.  I don’t care about some grander purpose sometimes, I just want my kid. I want to see him drive and graduate and get married and have children!  BUT somehow in the midst of my raw, horrific ache, God calls calls things that are not as though they were and I am able, by faith, to speak to my soul and say “it is well.”

It’s Jake’s faith and the Blood of Christ that make this okay and well with my soul.  The wages of sin is death and Jake, even though he was an awesome kid, a kind friend, talented actor, and good student, he was not perfect!  On his own merits he does not meet the standard of the Righteous Judge and King.  If not for the Blood of Christ and the Cross, he would be lost forever.  BUT GOD! Loved the whole world that He sent His one and only son, that whomever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life!!  And that profound mystery is why I can say, that even though it is not now completely the case, it is in the process of being WELL WITH MY SOUL.

Ray’s cousin died suddenly and unexpectedly this week.  He’s traveling this weekend to attend her funeral tomorrow.  Jake’s sweet friend, Hannah lost her dad last month.  My heart aches knowing the path that lies before each of those families.  Death, I’m afraid is a part of life, this side of heaven.  It’s hard to say good-bye even if you know you will see them again.  It seems like such a long time and Heaven is so very far away.  Knowing that Jake is safe and that his faith was strong makes me overwhelmingly grateful.  I would have done anything to save him, both physically and spiritually, but in both I was powerless.  The gratitude I have for my own salvation pales in comparison to the overwhelming thankfulness I feel for Jake’s.  Because while it bring little comfort to the ache of missing him, it is the very breathe of life that allows me to continue.  The hope and promise that I will see him again is EVERYTHING!

With each death since Jake’s, I have this deep desire to ask those who go before me to take a message to Jake for me.  It feels weird asking, but there are no cell phones in Heaven, that I am aware of, so all I can do is ask.  Please, if you get there before I do, would you please give Jake a hug for me.  Tell him that I am so very proud to be his mom and that I miss him terribly. Tell him to save me a place under our tree ( he will know what I mean) and that I’ll be there as soon as I’m done here.

And please, sweet friend, if you have not yet put your trust and faith in Him, don’t wait.  Christ is an amazing friend and though the journey is sometimes harder than you could ever have imagined, He will never leave you completely alone.  He will give you a peace which passes all understanding so that in the midst of the deepest ache you can still say, it is well…