I made the mistake of looking at an open grave today.
In the cemetery where our precious Ethan is buried, there was a tent with chairs set up... preparations made for another family to say an agonizing goodbye.
After standing over my son's grave for a time, I found myself walking purposely over to this fresh one nearby.
I walked right up to the edge of the dug earth. It was, of course, covered with the standard sheets of fake grass. But, bits of red clay had fallen in, and rested at the bottom of the container that would hold the casket. I peered down into the hole.
Surreal.
Only a few feet away my Ethan lays, in his casket deep in the red clay.
God, help me.
My husband had made a statement a few minutes earlier in front of Ethan's grave. "I'm just glad he's not here", he said.
I know he's right, but my baby's body... the same one we loved and touched and held and bounced and kissed... the one I nursed... it is here.
At our son's funeral, the minister, our good friend, talked about how God did not create us to stand over graves.
Maybe it wasn't a mistake to look at the freshly dug grave today. Maybe it feels surreal because it is.
The dictionary says surreal means "bizarre or dreamlike".
That sounds about right.
We were not created to stand over graves.
You know where I want to be when the Rapture happens?
Standing with my husband and my daughter over my sweet boy's grave.
I want to be there when it busts wide open and my son rises--- and I meet him and My Jesus in the air.
A friend from high school asked me to read your blog and to offer something encouraging to you and your husband. A very tall order. What would I say?
ReplyDeleteI could say I understand, for a truly do. I have my brother Mark and sister Sarah in heaven, though I don't remember them for I was little when they died. I have my son Lucas who I never met. And, I have my son, through miscarriage, Demitrious, name after my grandfather. I will see them all.
But, it doesn't really change anything here in the moment does it? The longing is painful. The un-knowning of what their little lives would be like is elusive.
I have come to know this one thing.... you will make it through to the other side in your journey with Him. Your writing is beautiful. It is honest. And, honesty before the One who understands has been amazing for me.
I've been stuck on a Scripture for a few days and I have shared it more than once this week. I hope it helps you, not to take anything you "feel" away from you, because that is real. But, to know that grief is a process (and it looks like you are working through that), and as a person who suffers, know that we will not suffer forever, but find peace within the life you live with Him.
"Though there may be weeping for the night (season) but joy comes in the morning." This has brought great comfort to me, not to sweep it under the rug, but to know that now I have joy in knowing that He has my kids and siblings, and I can't wait to see them when I leave this earth.
Cry all you want. Be all the quite you want to be. Yell all you want. Ask all you want. Take all the time you want to grieve. Each person's grief process is different. I've done all these things. And, I can say that I have truly come out on the other side.
I still shed a tear here and there when I look at my two children but I think that is still part of the grieving process. And it's ok....
Praying for you. Rob Anthony, ATL, GA
Thank you, Rob... your words have truly touched me and I know they will touch my husband as well. Knowing you have walked (and continue to walk) where we are makes them all the more powerful. Thank you for taking the time to minister to us!
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