“Our lives have often been painful, yes?
(Mary Magdeline to Matthew in The Chosen)
So we think life is full of scarcity and not abundance.
But then, there are those times when out of nowhere, somehow, the world expresses it’s longing to be whole.
And suddenly, God steps in.
And we are pulled out of blindness and invited into redemption.”
Ever since I was a child, I’ve loved the rain. There is something freeing, even slightly rebellious, in stepping out under a dark, angry sky to feel the cool drops of water on my upturned face. It is exhilarating. And, in a sense, I feel as if I am face to face with God. After Caleb died, it was also a stubborn insistence in trusting the goodness of God, despite the trauma in my own heart: a way of pushing against the darkness. Darkness had thought it won when it claimed the life of my eldest son. But I knew a secret: while Satan was intent on claiming Caleb and destroying our faith, our Heavenly Father was going to use all the evil and wrong that happened for good in our lives. Death is NOT good and God grieves with us and for us in all the things that are not right in this world. But the God who loves us will transform all of the mess and brokenness and will make something beautiful out of it. It’s what he does. Caleb was out of the clutches of the enemy. He is a child of God, safe in the arms of Jesus now.
We all face brokenness, from within and without. God steps into that messy place and we are faced with a choice…to turn towards the light or away from it.
It is easy to look at all I’ve lost. To see the scarcity of it all. The unfairness.
When Caleb died, we lost so much. We lost a beloved son. I lost a part of who I am that only he could bring out. My kids lost their biggest cheerleader, their staunchest friend. My daughter in law lost her beloved husband and dearest companion. And so many lost a friend that they could count on through thick and thin, someone who exuded the love of Jesus, and cared about them deeply. The loss is deep and the chasm of his absence, wide. It was unexpected. Shocking. Terrible.
Recently, we heard about a 4.8 Earthquake in Pennsylvania, not a place one would ever expect such a thing. The thing is, we never know what is around the next bend: tragedy or blessing.
Having Caleb ripped from us, gave me such a longing to know the friends that he held like treasures in his heart. He longed for me to meet them, to know them, to love them. After the wedding, he said to me excitedly, “Did you get to talk with any of my friends, mom?!”
“Just briefly,” I told him, smiling.
I wish I could tell him now that they have been a means of healing and joy to my soul, and how I now consider them as dear to me as my own kids; that their friendship has brought a sense of belonging and comfort as well as the joy of being part of a larger family, to my youngest two who are still at home.
He would be so so happy.
But I don’t think he would be surprised. They’re just that kind of people.
The Saturday afternoon before Easter, we had the pleasure and joy of attending the wedding of one of Caleb’s groomsmen, his dear friend. My heart was so full as I witnessed the union of this couple, yet so incredibly sad as I recognized with grieving heart that Caleb would’ve been standing right up there alongside Brevin. My heart wept as I watched with joy, the two of them recite their vows to each other as Caleb and Ren had done. I ached with longing as I watched with quiet delight, as Brevin and his mom danced, and I remembered the last time Caleb and I had danced together.
Joy on the one hand, sorrow on the other.
As we sat in the outdoor open air church, with the cattle grazing on the hillside and the birds chirping sweetly in the trees, we witnessed a holy thing, as two people, totally in love with Jesus, pledged their love and faithfulness to one another, and their commitment to follow after the Lord together. All my effort to hold back any tears fell apart, when Sarabeth, in her vows to Brevin, spoke about the aching absence of a dear friend, whom she never got to meet. She spoke of his encouragement and love for his friends, and how at that very moment, he was rejoicing in heaven with his Savior.
As shaking racked my body, I wept silently with a heart filled with the now familiar ring of intense, crushing grief.
But there was something else there too:
Love.
Love for a family gained, a door opened, and joy found, even in the presence of sadness.
Life is filled with joy and grief. I’m learning to hold them side by side and embrace them as traveling companions on this broken way.
This week, we’re in Virginia, awaiting the wedding of a nephew who is dear to my heart. At Caleb’s funeral, he leaned over and whispered in my ear,
“Thank you Aunty Megan for raising the kind of man who I want to be like.”
I don’t think he could’ve given me a sweeter gift.
Such burning embers of joy in the midst of flames of sorrow.
I am learning to hold them both without fear that I will loose either one. I am learning to dance in the rain.
Amidst the pain that lades these days, give me courage,
O Lord; courage to live them fully, to love and
to allow myself to be loved, to remember, grieve,
and honor what was, to live with thanksgiving in what is,
and to invest in the hope of what will be.
Be at work gilding these long heartbreaks
with the advent of new joys, good friendships,
true fellowships, unexpected delights.
Remind me again and again of your goodness,
your presence, your promises.
For this is who we are:
a people of The Promise-
a people shaped in the image of the God
whose very being generates all joy in the universe,
yet who also weeps and grieves its brokenness.
So we, your children, are also at liberty
to lament our losses, even as we simultaneeously
rejoice in the hope of their coming restoration.
Let me learn now, O Lord,
to do this as naturally as the inhale
and exhale of a single breath:
To breathe out sorrow,
To breathe in joy.
To breathe out lament,
To breathe in hope.
To breathe out pain,
To breathe in comfort.
To breathe out sorrow,
To breathe in joy.
To breathe out joy.”
McKelvey, Douglas (2021) Every Moment Holy: Vol 2