“It’s welcome”

This past week, we had the privilege and honor of attending the wedding of our daughter in law.  She was such a lovely bride, radiant from a beauty that has been hard won, through much suffering in her young life.  Ever since I met her groom, Seth, I have been struck with his gentle, kind heart and knew that one day I would have to say goodbye to what was, what can never be.  To be honest, I have dreaded that day ever since Caleb died, because it felt like I would be loosing him all over again.  

I’m reminded of a quote that I have hanging in my bedroom,

“Ye have lost a child: nay she is not lost to you who is found to Christ. She is not sent away, but only sent before, like unto a star, which going out of our sight doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another hemisphere. We see her not, yet she doth shine in another country.”

(Samuel Rutherford, 1629)

This truth simmers in the depths of my belly…he is gone from our sight, but he is not lost.  He is waiting for us in a paradise I couldn’t imagine if I tried.  

I have had a recurring dream for the past 6 months or so, since our dear Ren became engaged.  In it, my son has come back.  His death was all a big mistake.  What would, at any other time, be the most joyous news, is tinged with sorrow at the knowledge that though he has returned, Ren has moved forward, and Caleb must now travel forward in his life, alone.  And with the ache of my boy’s loneliness, my momma’s heart also feels the wound of abandonment.  I wake up, heartbroken and confused.  It takes awhile to adjust back to reality.  

A fear that I have held quiet is that with Ren’s wedding, I would pass through another aching loss.  That this natural, good, God ordained thing will mean that I will be standing in the rear view mirror, gazing out at the last thing my son held close before he died.  Just as in the dream I had after Caleb died where he left, and Ren and I were standing there crying while clutching each other close…now it would be me, left alone, aching while Ren walked out the door.   

I have waged a battle deep within my own heart.  Ren has become as dear to me as a daughter.  Yet, part of me wondered if I was being selfish in going to the wedding.  I was concerned that my presence there would be a hindrance, an unwanted shadow on the happiness of the couple and those who celebrated with them.  

A memory of what was.  

A weight around their necks.  

I wondered…maybe the most loving thing would be to not go.  To let them move forward with their lives together without having to deal with the pain of a grieving mother.  And how was I going to possibly attend without that grief that I carry every day, even though I hold such love for both Ren and Seth?

But to not go was impossible.  I hold too much love in my heart for that.  And as much as it might seem like wisdom to some, it did not to me.  Our lives have been intertwined.  We have shared the heights of joy and the depths of sorrow.  Isn’t that what the life of a Christ follower living in community is all about?! Loving through the messiness of life?  

So, on Wednesday, we headed out…not knowing what to expect, but armed with the knowledge that the One who had been with us through every unknown we have faced, would not fail us now.  We were not going alone.  I have seen the Lord bring blessings in the most unlikely of places, and I wanted to be open to any of his surprise gifts.

All we needed to do, was to step out of the boat, keeping our eyes on the One who walks on water.  

So with confidence in a God whose ways are not our ways, as well as a bit of human fear and trepidation, we walked into Seth’s family home for a party on Thursday, as well as a rehearsal dinner on Friday before the wedding. 

To describe that day and the days following defy any ability I might possess to show the ways in which we were welcomed, gathered in, and treated with such incredible love and honor.  No doubt, it will take me some time to process all the feelings and the ways in which the Lord met us, and showed us His great, great love through the people around us.  There were times, when the emotions that were swirling around in my heart were so heightened that I can not remember exactly what was said or done.  What I can say is that my family and I felt loved and even, treasured.  Caleb’s existence was not ignored in order to focus on the “main thing,” but he was remembered, spoken of, even as the joy of the wedding of two people, completely in love with one another and their Savior, was delighted in.  I drank it in.  There were so many who ministered to my heart:  Ren, Seth, the groom’s family, the bride’s family, and the many others, some who knew Caleb, and some who didn’t.  Many of whom, I have grown to love deeply, in Caleb’s absence.  They all spoke words my heart needed to hear, words of love and remembrance, of empathy and comfort.  We were surrounded by many prayers being lifted up to the throne of God on our behalf throughout the week, and I am so grateful!

At the rehearsal dinner, Seth’s dad got up and spoke beautiful words, bringing up the sting of loss that accompanied such a beautiful celebration.  His words spoke to my heart, and for the first time, I spoke aloud and expressed my great love for Ren and Seth both.  I was close to tears, but made it to the end and sat down.

But that was not the end.

Ren and Seth both came over to where I was sitting and each in turn hugged me, long and hard.  

The ugly cry was in danger of bursting forth in front of all those people.  

But as I was held by those who have become so dear to my heart, I felt held by Christ himself. 

I was standing on holy ground.

Through all the words of love spoken during the week by those around me, I felt seen by the eyes of Christ.  In the messiness of life, sometimes we just need someone to walk beside us, to see us, to hold us when our hearts are breaking. Caleb was like that.  Ren and Seth are like that. I pray that I can be more like that.

As the dam threatened to burst and all the emotion tied up in my heart was in danger of spilling out, I whispered to Ren as she hugged me close, “I’m sorry, Ren.”

She answered, “No, mom.  It’s welcome.”

And I knew I was seen. And loved.

Tim Keller once wrote,

“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.”

In the midst of all my complicated, rocky emotions of grief and joy…I knew I was loved.

Ren once told me that one time when she and Caleb left our house to head back home, he expressed concern that I had no close friends with whom to share my heart. She told him that she loved me already and really hoped we could be friends, close friends someday. She said she meant it from her heart and he was happy.

Caleb wanted me to know and experience the gift of a community that knows you. And truly loves you.

He had that with the friends God blessed him with. Now I have that with those same friends, their wives, Ren, Seth, and all those that have been touched by Caleb’s story. God’s grace has a multiplying effect. It doesn’t end with the few loaves and fishes. It goes on and on, with baskets and baskets left over! (Matthew 14:13-21)

And so, God gives us a picture, however imperfect we humans can be, that the same love that binds us together, is the love that He gives us…perfectly.

Friend…He knows you.

And He loves you deeply. Passionately. Fully.

You, and all your messiness is welcome in the arms of your Beloved King.

“My beloved speaks and says to me:
‘Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
    and come away,
¹¹ for behold, the winter is past;
    the rain is over and gone.
¹² The flowers appear on the earth,
    the time of singing^[a] has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
    is heard in our land.
¹³ The fig tree ripens its figs,
    and the vines are in blossom;
    they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
    and come away.'”

(Song of Solomon 2:10-13, ESV)