Number Eighteen

Would he have been tall?
Would he have been healthy?
Would he have been happy?

This week would have been Phil’s 18th birthday...

I seem to be struggling, trying to keep my head above the pool of tears that want to surface. I have learned so much, come so far, and yet it seems at special times like these, I lose ground again. I fall back into the missing that wants to consume me. I fall back into the thoughts that want to control my mind even when I know that is not where I should be, or is it? Certainly I am allowed to still grieve for my son? Some may think the time has passed, but will it ever, really? The thorn may always be there, piercing my heart at unexpected moments, causing me to wince and cry out...and yet I do not feel that God has forsaken me.

Reading today about Jesus’ final night in the garden, sweating drops of blood, knowing what He must face...to think of all that He did for us so that the power of death would be defeated--so that eternal life would be assured...how precious is that gift especially when no gifts will be bought this week for Phil?

No cake will be decorated, no candles will be blown out, no song will be sung. It will be silent, it will be what it is, not what it may have been had things been different, but things are not different. They are what they are, and they will always be that way. There is no turning back, no reversing what is, no wishing it away. No amount of tears will change what has happened--what still seems inconceivable at times.

You may wonder why I still continue to write about this pain, this loss, over and over I pour out my heart, and it may get old. It may seem to be a closed book, but the book will forever remain open, the pages will keep adding up and the end will never come until my time on earth is through. It is my life, the life of my son, and I am not alone. Others feel this, others know what these shoes are like, and others have nowhere to take the pain they feel. If there is anything I can do for them, I will. If anything I write can help them, I thank God! The pit is too deep, the color is too black, and the days can be so long when the weariness seems to never go away.

It can though, and I know that. I have felt that, and I continue to rise above what the enemy has used to try and destroy my very soul. He wants me to be angry with God, and he wants me to turn my back on the only source of help that I have. He wants me to crash and burn, and he works on me each and every day trying to make that a reality in his "world." He especially works on the emotions and the mind when difficult days are pending. When it becomes most obvious that everything has changed and nothing will be the same again.

In he comes, Satan that is, and he tries to get me to conjure up all the scenarios from the past that will hurt. He tries to make me think about all that will never be. He tries to block out all the good that God has done in these past almost two years, and remember only the bad. Remember the graveside, the last moments, the things left undone. He tries and he tries, until the human mind can stand no more. Relentless, he is, and only God in all His power can defeat such an enemy as this. Only the Word can combat such an attack. Only complete focus on what the Savior has done can wipe away the images that the enemy will set before me.

Max Lucado writes in his book "Traveling Light":

"In God’s plan every life is long enough and every death is timely. And though you and I might wish for a longer life, God knows better.

And—this is important—though you and I may wish a longer life for our loved ones, they don’t. Ironically, the first to accept God’s decision of death is the one who dies.

While we are shaking heads in disbelief, they are lifting hands in worship. While we are mourning at a grave, they are marveling at heaven. While we are questioning God, they are praising God.

But, Max, what of those who die with no faith? My husband never prayed. My grandpa never worshiped. My mother never opened a Bible, much less her heart. What about the one who never believed?

How do we know he didn’t?

Who among us is privy to a person’s final thoughts? Who among us knows what transpires in those final moments"

Isn’t that great? Isn’t it great sometimes that we don’t know for sure what their final thoughts were, because then we all have hope. No one knows the final thoughts of anyone, even in a split second before an accident, even in a coma. We don’t know, but God does because nothing escapes Him. When we are faced with those final moments, we can probably change pretty quickly. Looking death square in the face whether it be for an extended period of time or a split second, we are very capable of changing what we think about the Almighty.

Isn’t it also great that while we are mourning at the grave, they are marveling at heaven? That is where I want my focus to be. That is where I want to keep my mind and my emotions, especially this week, the week that would have been Phil’s eighteenth birthday.

"Wherever your treasure is, there your heart will also be."
Matthew 7:21

I would like to say that I’ve got this all together now, that this doesn’t hurt anymore and that even though I know that heaven is REAL-- that no tears will fall, but that’s just not reality. That is just not the way God wired us, we hurt and we miss and we have emotions that need to be dealt with. God does not condemn us for that, He made us this way, and He will walk with us through each and everyone of those emotions, bringing us through them, and then out again on the other side to rest.

Sometimes we cannot even get a handle on what is wrong, it just seems that something is amiss. We can bury that in busy-ness, or television or any number of things, but I don’t believe that will help. That is not where our help lies--it lies with our Father. He knows our pain; He is the only one who knows us so intimately that nothing is hidden from Him. He knows we are struggling even before we do. Why not take it to Him and allow Him to work on the problem? Isn’t that the best solution for what ails us? Then it is not buried, but uncovered. It can be brought to the surface and worked on, repaired and renewed.

God is the only one capable of that. No one else can do this for us. No friends, no family, no professional help that is available is as good as our Creator. No one knows us quite so well. What we won’t admit to Him, He already knows. All we need to do is to cry out "Help me" and He will. It doesn’t take money, or education or anything this world has to offer. This world is what failed us, God never will.

My eyes are always looking to the
Lord for help, for he alone can rescue
me from the traps of my enemies.
Psalm 25:15

The enemy is setting traps for me this week. I know that. I am no stranger to him, and he is no stranger to me. We have fought many battles, and he continues to lose them because I have the Word. I know that it is stronger than his attacks. This is spiritual warfare. We think it is a daily battle fought with the things we can see and taste and smell and touch. It is not. It is fought in the mind, and in the heart. It is fought on a battlefield that we cannot even see, but God can, His angels can, and the only way we can win this battle is to use God’s weapons of warfare. These weapons are prayer and the Word. We can use the armor of God! Yes, God actually gives us armor to wear.

A final word: Be strong with the Lord’s mighty power.
Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to
stand firm against all strategies and tricks of the Devil.
Ephesians 6:11

There is a belt of truth, a shield of faith, the sword of the Spirit, the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, and the feet of readiness of the peace of the Gospel. God knew there would be many battles with Satan, and He wants us to be prepared.

Lunacy? Craziness? Gone way over the edge of reality?
No, fact.

We "are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world." (Eph. 6:12) Our daily battles cannot be fought with ordinary, earthly weapons. Guns, deals, money, contracts, drugs, alcohol, whatever we choose to use to try to destroy what seeks to destroy us will not work.

You are my King and my God.
You command victories for your people.
Only by your power can we push back
our enemies; only in your name can we
trample our foes.
I do not trust my bow; I do not count on
my sword to save me. It is you who gives us
victory over our enemies; it is you who humbles
those who hate us.
Psalm 44:4-7

If I were to use drugs, alcohol, pleasure, food, busy-ness, sleep, you name it, to get me through this week, what would I have accomplished? Nothing but burying the hurt under things that will not hide the pain, only seemingly diminish it for a while. The only way the pain will get better, really, is to hand it over to God and let Him fight the battle for me. I need to be honest about it with Him, pour out my heart to Him and ask Him for help. I need to stay in the Word and read about the hope I long for--let it reassure me that everything really will be okay. I will see my son again, the separation is only for a short time and even if I can’t know all the reasons for it now, there are good reasons for what has happened. This is a tried and true method. I have tried it and it is true. It has brought me this far and it will take me all the way home. I have no doubt about that.

Is this week still difficult? Of course it is, but it is not impossible and the end result is learning even much more about the power of God in difficult situations. Each step in this learning process makes the next one just a little bit easier. Once you have been down the slide ten times, the fear at the top is not quite so bad. It may look like a deep dark hole that you will never come out of, but you have tried it, you have survived it and you know that even though it may take your stomach away on the way down, it will be okay.

God’s provisions are given when needed, and the build-up is a sneaky scheme by the enemy to make it seem worse than it really is. He knows that God will be there to catch you, to hold your hand, to walk you through it, but the enemy is the bully who will tease you and get you all worked up about how horrible it is going to be before you even get there. He wants to see you cry and he wants to see the look of panic in your eyes. That is what satisfies him. He knows his time is limited, so he’s working as quickly as he can before we cry out:

Please, Lord, rescue me!
Come quickly, Lord, and help me.
May those who try to destroy me
be humiliated and put to shame.
May those who take delight in my trouble
be turned back in disgrace
Let them be horrified by their shame,
for they said, "Aha! We’ve got him now!"
But may all who search for you be
filled with joy and gladness.
May those who love your salvation
Repeatedly shout, "The Lord is great!"
Psalm 40:13-16

The Lord is great! He has rescued me before in this situation and He will do it again. I will continue to cry out to Him when times are most difficult, and I know He will not fail me. He never has before, and He won’t this time either! It is just a week of human emotions that must be dealt with in the best possible way, and that way has been proven by trials already experienced in the past.

The trials can take us in two directions, directly to the throne of God, or directly into the pit of despair. One can destroy us; one can take us to the highest mountain for a view of things as we’ve never seen them before. It doesn’t mean that there won’t be more valleys, but once we’ve seen the top of the mountain, we won’t want to settle for anything less, and we know that the valley is just a path that must be traveled through from time to time.

This week stretches before me like one of those valleys. I must walk through it; there is no way around it. I can’t wipe the date off the calendar and pretend that it doesn’t exist. I can’t pretend that I never had a son born on the 16th of October. That would be denying him. I must face it, and pray my way through it holding out my hand to the only One who can lead the way...

One step at a time,
Diane