Fall Connect 2011

You've heard the words, "I'm sorry, he's gone." Or, "I'm so sorry, we couldn't save her." And suddenly you find yourself standing at the edge of a very wide river called Grief. All you can think is, "I can't swim. I can't go through this." The river is there whether you were expecting someone's death or not. The river is there whether they were in their 90s or their 20s.

The passing of a loved one can be God's touch of mercy for someone who has had a long life or experienced a lengthy time of suffering. Knowing God has freed them to "move into their new mansion" is a blessing—for them as well as for the family who has sat by their side and watched.
But when "suddenly" happens and it's your grandson-in-law at age 20 or your grandson at 27, you have to really know Who your Anchor is, because the storm you find yourself in is more like a Category 5 hurricane. When we evaluate our ability to "go through" the tragedy, we find ourselves greatly lacking. It's normal. "I can't" becomes our mantra. And if we're not careful, we will begin to believe it.
At times, there's just no way to make sense of it. Such was the case with my granddaughter's husband in 2005, when a car he was working under collapsed. He was unconscious for a week; long enough for the family to gather and watch over him and get used to the idea that he might not survive. But it was still sudden, and 20 years old was entirely too young.

Just a few weeks ago, my strong, healthy 27-year-old grandson had what seemed like a simple upper respiratory infection. It quickly turned into double pneumonia. After a two-week battle, and one day of what seemed to be victory, "sudden" tragedy returned to claim him for heaven. It was too fast. Why, God, why?

I knew God wouldn't give me an answer that would satisfy me, his young wife, his mother—or any of the rest of the family who had stationed "watch" over him those 14 days. So where do you go when "Why" doesn't work? I remembered "lean not on your own understanding"—God's way of saying, "Don't try to figure it out, My child. My thinking won't make sense to you."

So now what? God gave me words to share at my grandson's funeral. That was another "I can't." But God gave me the words to say and the strength to say them. Words of love; reminders to slow down and take time for the people in our lives we find ourselves "too busy" for. "Take time to do lunch." (Matt and I always intended to, but…) Love one another. Think on the good things. And my favorite—"Say 'I love you' a lot."

Life may be short, but heaven is forever! Because of God's sacrifice of His one and only Son, we have a Father who knows of grief and who will walk with us. We don't have to feel angry and cheated, because this life isn't all there is. For those of us who know and love Jesus, it
means when we have suffered the loss of someone we love, we don't have to say "good-bye," we only have to say, "I'll see you later."

So what about that wide river called Grief? Somehow, I have found myself on the other side. I didn't swim; I was carried. The love and prayers of so many who love the Lord have lifted me up and carried me, with strength and peace, to the bank on the other side. There is still grieving to be done, and it will come in waves. Sometimes unexpected thoughts or sights jar me and move me to tears. But tears are cleansing, and I have the promise that "joy comes in the morning." And God will carry me until then.

"Crossing The Wide River," written by Kathy Daugherty is found in our Fall issue of Connect, a quarterly publication that seeks to share the stories of God's people at KPC.