To those who have lost a friend or sibling whose life was too short, I mourn with you. The shock and pain of having someone by your side one day and finding out they won’t be the next is immense. I know you must feel robbed of many things on their behalf and I am so sorry for your loss.
To those who have lost a parent, I cry with you. I haven’t walked through this, but I imagine the difficulty doesn’t take note of how young or old you are. Whether you were the caretaker or still the one being cared for, it’s painful and difficult and I’m so sorry for your loss.
To those who have lost a spouse, right now I weep with you as I just recently caught the smallest glimpse of what you’ve experienced. When you linked arms with your husband or wife on your wedding day, this isn’t what you pictured. The lifetime of memories you had dreamed up with this person have been replaced by excruciatingly difficult circumstances and I am so sorry for your loss.
To those who have lost a child, I ache for you as I write this. When I try putting myself in your shoes, I can’t breath. My heart and my eyes sting when I imagine how your arms must long to hold them, even if it’s just one more time. What you would give to hear one more giggle. To share one more hug. To say one more thing. I am so sorry for your loss.
In early September of 2016, Brent and I walked through our biggest loss up to this point. I’m sure I will write about it eventually, but as for now, I still haven’t come up with the words needed. In the tender days and weeks following, we had a small community of close friends and family who gathered around us and ushered us through. They delivered meals and flowers and hugs and cards and they spoke words they thought were small. But those words were big. They were life-giving.
All of this to say, I hope you can find life in these following, small words.
If you’ve been told the lie that God let this “happen for a reason,” I am so sorry. I wish I could have been there for you in that moment. To stand beside you and protect you from that. We live in a world that is broken and some things that happen are just broken and terrible things.
Can God bring beauty and life from broken things? Yes.
Does He sit around, devising plans of severe pain to teach you a lesson or show you a reason? No.
My prayer for all of you is that you would feel and hear what I did this past September:
In the midst of the pain and loss we were experiencing, I felt the gentle hand of our Creator on my back. While crying over me like a father over his hurting child, He whispered, “I never meant for it to look this way. I never wanted you to feel this. That wasn’t my plan. I want to redeem this for you. I want to bring beauty from this. But please know I never meant for it to look this way.”