The Rock

Wednesday, 06 Mar 2002

As you walk through a cemetery, looking at the names on the stone markers, don't you wonder about those people. Who they were, what they died of, who grieved for them? I do. I have never been one to visit cemeteries much, even the graves of loved ones, like some do. But I have walked through cemeteries from time to time when travelling, or at funerals etc...and I was always interested in the dates and names. Why do I share this? Because of yesterday. You have all been travelling this road of grief with me, and yesterday was a day that I need to share with you. It was the day we gave the final okay on Phil's grave marker. After a few changes, we feel satisfied with what is, and they will cut it into the green stone we have picked, and place it on his grave next week. It is so strange....to see his name...PHILIP ANDREW SHORE. When Jim and I chose that name, we never expected to see it on a grave marker 16 years later. It never crossed our mind that something like that might happen. Of course our children outlive us. That's the way it is... normally. But, not always...

Philip Andrew Shore, such a nice name. Such a nice boy. What would he think to see his name there? I always imagine him being along with us, approving the things we have done since he died, like picking out his coffin. He wouldn't have cared. Same with this. I can see him standing next to me, shrugging his shoulders, leaving it up to me to decide. He wouldn't want to have to make the decision. That was partly because of the chemotherapy he had gone through. There were so many times that his brain was confused or he just didn't feel well enough to make a decision, so he trusted me to make them. He probably would be doing that now. "I don't care Mom. Don't make me think about it" would probably be his response. I don't want to think about it either, but I have no choice. Things need to be done, and now it is. The marker will be finished and put into place. One more step down this road that we will look back on. A long road it is...and l get tired. If I did not have God as my refuge, I would curl up and stay that way. It hurts, and the hurting seems more intense now than ever. It hardly ever goes away. There are moments when I find it to be less, but mostly, it is there. A sadness that at times is almost unbearable. A missing that stretches my heart to it's breaking point. I long for someone farther down the road of grief to tell me it gets better. They do, but they do with reservations...yes, it gets better but it never fully goes away. I know one day it will go away though, because one day all tears will be wiped away. One day there will be no more pain and suffering and one day there will be no more missing. One day children won't die, and Mom's won't grieve and hearts won't hurt. One day...

Are you ready for that day? I am! Are you sure where you are going? Do you know where you will be when your name is engraved on a stone and placed above your grave? Do you know what a comfort it is to me to know where Phil is? Do you know the hope that I cling to when there is nothing in this world that can comfort me? When only God can comfort me and take away this pain? Do you know what God's Word can do for you? I cannot tell you enough what a wonderful God we have. How He lifts me out of my pain and carries me when I can't take another step. It doesn't mean that I don't hurt and grieve like any mother would, but it means I have a place where I can go for rest. It means I have a way of escape when I think I can't stand it one more minute. It means I don't have to dull the pain with things that would harm me, but I can dull it with the love of God. It means I can look into the future and know that there is a glorious future waiting for me, on earth and in heaven. It means that God had a plan for Phil's life and that plan was fulfilled. That Phil did not go home one minute earlier than he was meant to, and when he arrived, his room had been prepared.

I am reading a book about heaven that my brother and sister-in-law sent to me. In it, it talks about welcoming our children home. How we prepare for their visit. Buying their favorite foods, preparing meals that they love etc...and it talks about how Jesus has gone to prepare a place for us. It made me think about Phil arriving in heaven, being welcomed with turkey and dressing and maybe a roller-coaster was waiting. Of course, I have no idea, but it made me think about how happy he was when his eyes took in all that God had prepared for him. What a wonderful way to think about his arrival, instead of dwelling on his departure. His departure was what I saw, but it's not what he saw. He was welcomed home, and I know he loved it!

It is this hope that we have that can carry us through the days that are tough. There are times when I just want to feel so sorry for myself, that is the human side of me, wanting to sink down into this dark pit. But God keeps calling to me, He keeps bringing me back up and into His light and encouraging me to keep going forward. He does that in so many ways, and I have to tell you, one of the ways is from family and friends like you who listen to my ramblings, respond to my e-mails, call me or send a card or tell me that in some way, I am helping you. When I hear that, I thank God for the strength that He gives me. For the words that He gives me to write. I thank Him for everything He is doing for me to get me through this intense mourning time. "Blessed are those who mourn", it says in Matthew 5:4, "for they will be comforted". Some may not understand that, I don't think I did before, but I do now. I feel truly blessed by the comfort that God gives me and all those He has surrounded me with.

In another translation, in Matthew 5:3 it says:

God blesses those who realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them.

Losing Phil, living without him, has made me realize my need for God more than ever. It draws me so close to Him, and by doing so, it blesses me so much in return. Needing God seems weak to some, but by resting in God, by allowing His strength to fill me, I know I can do all things. Even though my heart is broken and I know in my own strength I would wither and die, God fills me with His strength and I know I can go on. I know this will not defeat me. I know that this pain will not destroy me. Do you know what I'm talking about? Can you understand how in my weakness, He fills me with His strength?

Ephesians 3:16
I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you
with power through his Spirit in your inner being.

I don't have to do this on my own. I don't have to fear anything, because God can do everything. I know that when I can't take one more step, I can sit down, open my Bible and find exactly what I am needing, find the strength that I need, the wisdom that I need, the hope that I need. I know that I don't have to know anything, because I know the One who knows everything. When I am down to the last knot on the rope and my fingers are starting to slip off, I can fall into the mighty arms of God and He will always be there.

I have never done anything this difficult in my life, and I can't say it's getting any easier. Jim and I both agree that it is getting harder. This is probably the normal course of grief, but we don't know. It's sort of like chemotherapy, once you learn all about it, you don't need to know anymore. Once you learn about clinics and hospitals and laboratories, you're finished. Maybe with this though, once we learn about grief, it will be a useful tool. There are so many that have walked this path before that are helping us. But I am also finding that no two paths are exactly alike. There are similarities there, for sure, but it's almost like fingerprints, it is individual. The only thing I am finding that is the same, is God. He is the solid foundation that we can lean upon, if we choose Him. He is the Rock.

1 Corinthians 10:2-4
They were all baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea. They all ate the same spiritual food and drank the same spiritual drink; for they drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ.

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Whatever our path, whatever our struggle, we can all be refreshed when we come to the Lord. Right now I'm needing more than my daily recommended 8 glasses. This marathon of grief leaves me parched, and I drink often, gulping down God's word. We all can do that, no matter what path we are on.

Thanks for letting me share with you what's on my heart once again. When Phil's marker is placed next week, and I stand looking down at it in the grass, I am going to think about the rock that his name is carved into, and thank God for His Son Jesus Christ, the Rock, and the eternal hope that He has given us!

Love, Diane