All the Time

I can’t help but feel a little blah today. It’s September in Alaska. All that means is that it’s turning cold and we’re losing daylight faster and faster with each hour that passes. And to top it off, my area is experiencing high winds and drizzling rain. It’s a fitting day for mourning family members that are no longer with us; memories brought on by the recent and unexpected loss of my uncle. Ever notice that when you’re feeling down, it seems right if it’s yucky outside (I’m not especially good with the words right now, so “right” may not be the best choice)? If it were sunny, it would seem that the “sunshine” or happy vitamin (D) would be mocking those mourning.

I’ve lost family members before, but it feels different this time. With great-grandparents and grandparents, as much as you don’t want to lose their presence on this earth, you know it’s only a matter of time. They’re the ones with the “we walked to school, up hill both ways and in the snow” stories. They’re the ones who experienced multiple wars, the Great Depression, and real social injustices. My grandparents were born a decade or so after the “automatic washing machine” was invented, the microwave didn’t become affordable for most households till the late seventies, and clothes were never ironed – they were pressed (don’t forget the starch!). While they didn’t have the conveniences we were born into, my grandparents lived rich lives. Upon leaving this world for a better place, their legacy shines bright in their children, their grandchildren, their great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren. (We’re a sizable family)

While we know that life on earth does not go on forever, we dread the day of having to say our tearful farewells to our elderly family members. We also know that sickness and disease is part of living in a fallen world, and barring a miraculous healing, there are other losses we have time to brace for (still does nothing to soften the blow of a life cut short). But when an accident happens on a day like any other day, the shock ushers in a different kind of grief. While I have the blow softened by geographical distance, I cannot fathom how the loss is being felt by the rest of my family who shared their day-to-day with my uncle.

It’s common for those hurting to rail at God…. “How could you let this happen? You could have saved him!” and so many more variations. They’re valid points: God is able and could have stopped the accident from being fatal. I know that I went through the stage of being angry at God and questioning God when I experienced back-to-back miscarriages (and other heartbreaks along the way). I don’t know all the answers, but I know the only one that matters: God is good. (This link to “My ‘Selah'” has a yummy broth recipe and more on how good God is in our grief.)

It’s difficult to see it through the fog of grief and anger; the feelings of abandonment and loneliness. God is good. It’s either a true statement all the time or not at all. God is good. He either loves us or He doesn’t. God is good. He’s either faithful or He’s a liar. God. Is. Good.

Maybe you’ve heard my retelling of the Doberman Brownies… A teen told his dad about a movie he wanted to see. Only a little bit of bad language, only a small scene that shows too much skin… but overall, it’s supposed to be a good movie. Can he go watch it with his friends? The father said he would think about it and let him know. Dinner comes around and the father has made some brownies for dessert. He offers a brownie to his son and cautions, “I know they smell really good, I make the best brownies around, but I dropped a very small bit of dog poop in the batter. I’m not sure it will make a difference because it was only a little bit… just a small drop… but the brownies should still be okay.”

For me, those brownies would be in the compost pile… God is either poop-free or He’s compost-fodder. God is good. There is no evil in God, just like there is no darkness in light. God is good. Scripture tells us that God is close to the broken-hearted, but it also tells us that God does not cause the heartbreak (Isaiah 54:9-10 & 15-17). God is good.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3 (NIV)

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (NIV)

The grief from the passing of my great-grandparents (that I was old enough to remember) and my grandparents still lingers, but has (thankfully) changed. Same goes for the grief of losing my step-mother to cancer. While I miss them, being able to pick up the phone to talk or melt into their hugs, I’m able to talk about them without the snot and ugly crying. There were times I wasn’t sure what hurt worse: the swollen eyes and pounding head or the knowledge that I was only left with memories and things left unsaid.

My family, especially my uncle’s immediate family, have suffered a significant loss this side of Heaven. The memories of childhood now have a lens of grief for my uncle’s siblings. Nieces and nephews have lost a listening ear, hugs that mirrored our Papa, and an uncle who told it like it was (I recall him telling me, “Ain’t nobody’s fault but your own.” and “Get your butt outta that chair.” Along with some more colorful phrases that were always perfectly timed). A son and three daughters who are raising their own children have lost a role model, a support, and a best friend. My uncle loved hard, and the void left with his passing is significant.

God being good is pretty significant, too. In the movie, “The Shack,” Mack reluctantly decides to help Sarayu (the Holy Spirit) with the garden. He comments about how it’s such a mess. Sarayu responds that the garden, the mess, is him. He discovers that everything in his garden has a purpose – even a death-causing weed (his grief) – if it is paired with other things in his garden; there is beauty. As Mack works through his grief and anger, he’s working on the garden of himself. It was, and always is, a process – grief. And while the grief is suffocating right now, it can become something bittersweet and even lifegiving later on. Getting there is going through a lot of hard, but God is good.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:2 (NIV)