Moments that Should Never Be
Yesterday I spent part of my day helping at a private funeral for an infant. With only three weeks left in her pregnancy, a friend of mine was induced so she could deliver her stillborn son.
From the moment I heard the news until even now… my mind kept saying, “No. No. It’s not supposed to happen that way.” Mamas should never have to bury babies. Dads should never have to watch their legacy be laid to rest. That’s just not how it works.
But it happens. All the time. Children die. Babies die.
Brilliant hope for the future crumbles into a pile of broken dreams.
I wish… no, I long for some way to explain things. Some secret hidden key to unlock the horror of situations like this. A Bible verse. A principle of discipleship. Something. Someway to prove that God has a “happy” thing to counter this depth of sadness.
But guess what? There’s not.
We don’t have a God who says, in the middle of horrible pain, “I did this because…” There is no explanation. It’s not because someone was good or bad or deserved it or didn’t deserve it…
It just is.
And there is no “happy” thing to fix it. Not another child. Not another dream. Nothing actually replaces what is lost. Everyone else might forget about that little plot with the marker that has the same date of birth and death… but not them. Whenever they say the number of children they have- this one will always be there, even if they don’t speak it.
Yet, even in the middle of that raw grating pain… We do have a God. One who does say something. No, it’s not an explanation. It’s something completely different.
He says, “I know.”
I have never lived through a death like this one… still, I’ve experienced my own tastes of death. I’ve looked at the horrible and haven’t known what to do.
I’ve raged and ranted and screamed at my God- asking why or why not- then crumbled into a heap at his feet, longing for an explanation… and I’ve felt his tears and I’ve heard his voice.
Truth is, in the middle of pain, the most healing thing to hear is that God knows. And while I may be angry that He didn’t protect me or them or whoever… I also have the knowledge that He didn’t protect Himself either.
My ideal may be protection from pain but God can’t actually be molded into my ideal. He is what he is.
When Moses asked God who to say had sent him, God said, I AM.
He hasn’t changed since then.
And for some reason, this God who IS, the one who created us and loves us, is not afraid of pain. He faces it and He lets us face it.
So those moments that should never be… are.
They were for Adam and Eve, for Abraham, for Job, for David, for every generation since and even for God Himself. So, it makes sense that I will face them and my friends will face them.
Still. It hurts.
So I will cling to the truth. The only truth I have. That my God, the one who IS, the one who created us all, who loves us all… knows.
1 comment:
Natasha-
Thanks so much for your post today. I clicked on your link on facebook. I was curious as to who the little girl at ABI had turned out to be. Little did I know that I was to find great encouragement through what I thought was just curiosity. You see, we too, had to bury not one but two babies this winter. Twin boys. Stillborn at 20 weeks. We too have a marker that bears the same date. It is a grief all too often mourned alone. Thanks for reminding me, again, that God knows and walks with us in the darkness. God bless you, Natasha! Amy Bultman
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