Truth In Tragedy

It has taken me some time to get back to writing and even more time to post this particular piece. Scared of my own vulnerability, what others might think, and the delicateness with which to handle a subject that causes deep wounds, I wrung my hands in writing. This is my story though, my heart and my mechanics for dealing with a very difficult time in my life and in my family's life, and I felt like I couldn't write about anything else until it was expressed somehow.

Two months ago, my brother died. I don't need to be too descriptive about the feelings that accompany the death of a close family member. But, let me tell you about that day. That day, I was having a great day. I ran in the AtlanticFest (I had run the same race last year 2 months after delivering Mercy and was quite out of shape then- wonder why?)  and I was feeling world's better than when I ran it then! It was going to be a good day, with a stroll around the vendors with my family. Kyle, Adelaide, and Mercy were actually standing at a checkpoint to cheer me on. I gave them kisses as I went by.

My heart was full. 

After the race, I jaunted back to the checkpoint, chipper, where Kyle and the girls were waiting. That is when my husband told me. I rushed home, called family, packed bags for everyone (a task that usually takes days, took hours), cleaned the house, made arrangements for work, the cats, meetings...) and before I knew it, we were almost to Pennsylvania. What a change in the day! If you were sunbathing on a beach and a tidal wave came in abrubtly and swept you into the ocean, that's how a day like that day felt. We were on the road to my in-laws Monday night, and my children had finally fallen asleep in the car when the sobs let loose. I couldn't sleep that night. It hit me so hard, I felt like I couldn't breathe. He's gone. 

After the funeral and the initial hurt, other feelings began to creep in, unexpected, unprepared-for feelings. As a believer, knowing my brother was Christian too, I assumed this would actually be easy. Easy to cope with, easy to move on from. But it's affected me in ways I wouldn't have expected. 

I took a class in college called "Sin, Guilt, Suffering, and Death "(no, I'm not joking. Either the prof thought that was a catchy title or maybe he was describing the progression of our studies in that class: not reading (sin), being shamed (guilt), anguishing over our grade, and ultimately, academic death.) I kid, but it must have been a good class, Dr Priest, because I remember quite a bit. I learned about death. And it's psychological, social and anthropological implications. Particularly what it does to us, how we respond as a group, and what cultural methods we create for coping. It alł seemed clinical back then. Now it feels real.

What I took from my studies and now find affirmed in life experience is that, above and beyond that initial sadness, death seems to yield two fleshly (very common, very human) responses:

First, it throws into chaos everything we know as normal. Nothing makes sense with that person gone. It's just confusing that one day a person can be and the next they are not. It spins us out of control, nothing seems to matter or have purpose. You feel paralyzed to be happy sometimes. How can you be happy?  Seems a lot like Fatalism.

Crippled by the insensical nature of death we freeze. And enlightened by our fragility we run headlong into absurd unrealistic "happiness".

On the other hand, it highlights the dictonomy between itself and life. Everything actually seems worth doing better, life seems MORE important. You want to hug your kids more, and be a better spouse, daughter, etc. You want to experience things quicker, check off that bucket list. YOLO (for all you folks unaware, this means "you only live once" and basically means, live it up without regard for morals) and don't waste a minute, cause who knows when you'll be next and no one knows how long they have.

This one feels a lot like Hedonism.

I'm beginning to see that both are born from fear. Crippled by the insensical nature of death we freeze. And enlightened by our fragility we run headlong into absurd unrealistic "happiness".

But God has not given us a spirit of fear. So while common, the above responses are lies and are not from God and are not good. Even as that truth sinks in, I have been painfully walking in the two bullet points above, pin balling between complete helplessness and utter joy and confused by it all. 

Keeping me stable though is the truth I find in scripture. When I let my thoughts wander, allowing my flesh to tell me how to find peace, I get spun around like a top, grappling and finding neither hopelessness or bliss fulfilling. Let me tell you the words of God that have been stilling the chaotic waters of my heart as I wade through the lies above. 

Though Phillipians 4:4-9 is amazing in its entirety, three words have caught my undivided attention in this tumultous time, "whatever is true." If you read the whole thing you'll find that the author encourages us to think upon things that are true, lovely, right, excellent, admirable and so on, with the promise of the peace of God. As I have experienced wave after wave of emotion and thoughts that tangle me up, like : life has no purpose, nothing matters if this is everyone's end and what is the point in going on? As those thoughts move in, I have to focus on what is TRUE.

At Paul's funeral, our pastor read some serious truth in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18. Abbreviated it says, "We do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have NO HOPE. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him...We who are still alive, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so WE will be with the Lord forever." This life is not the end. And the TRUTH is that if you believe in God, someday you will be with Him in heaven along with all the others that believe in God too. So this isn't the end for my relationship with Paul. 

Before my brother "fell asleep", I had been meditating on Psalm 90:12, and it has come up over and over again in my reading:

"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

I read that a lot because my children are crazy toddlers. I don't know how those little people do it, but they have the power to drive me to insane, frustrated places. And it's hard to remember to 'number your days' and appreciate the life around you when you are being hen-pecked by a 3 year old who's mad at you cause you're making her change out of her pajamas, or a 1 year old who has realized they can reach things on the counter and table tops, including, knives (YIKES!!). You don't always go to bed, well, thankful. (Honesty moment: I have often felt more like exhausted and terrified that it all starts again the next day.) So I was reading that verse and praying God would teach me to recognize the vapor that is my short life and the whisp of air that is this particular time of my life and set my darn attitude straight.

The fragility of my life is now confirmed both by experience and scripture. Listen to what some of the other verses say,

"You return men back to dust...for a thousand years in your sight (God) are like a day that has just gone by."

"All our days pass away...the length of our days is seventy years- or eighty, if we have the strength...for they quickly pass, and we fly away." 

When I process life through my feelings, I am left deceived and disillusioned. When I process life through God's truth, I am divinely comforted by His love and made confident in his calling in my life.

Sounds fatalistic, but in the end, the prayer of that scripture (verse 17) is that Lord would establish the work of our hands for us. So the truth is, life is short, but that does not mean YOLO by cultural tradition. It means, You Only Live Once so you better be living the work that God has established for you. Living life without God will feel like there is no purpose to it. Chase what everyone else seems to think is pleasurable and you'll find that the list is long and unfulfilling. Seek out a relationship with God and the work He has established for you in this short time because THAT is where those of us left behind by a loved one who has 'flown away' will find peace. Lysa Terkheurst describes this in one of her books (Becoming More Than a Good Bible Study Girl), "When I process life through my feelings, I am left deceived and disillusioned. When I process life through God's truth, I am divinely comforted by His love and made confident in his calling in my life."

As I process "life", my brother's death, I am reminded to seek first God and find that He is walking right beside me in all of this and He is not silent about it. He comforts me with truth, that because Jesus died for me and my brother, and because both of us have believed in Him, I have the hope of being with Paul again in heaven someday. And in the meantime, He teaches me to live life now according to His direction, because that is the only life worth living. 

                                                            To my brother, Paul.