A Season of Death
Ecclesiastes says there is a time for every purpose under
Heaven. I have always thought of these “times”
as singular events – a time to cry, a time to weep, a time to mourn, a time to
laugh, etc. My mom mentioned that we are
in a time of death…a season, really. I’ve
experienced 6 deaths in the last 6 months.
If that’s not a season of death, I don’t know what is.
Especially painful is the loss of my niece, Phoenix. Precious, sweet girl who was so deeply loved. There is nothing natural or right about
death. Everything about it feels wrong. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Rather, death is a vivid, piercing, searing
reminder that we and this world are in decay.
Oh, how I long for Jesus to return and for
Heaven.
A Taboo Subject
No one wants to talk about death. Most people seem to only ask
reluctantly how my sister and her husband are doing, if they ask anything at all. And they don’t really want to hear about it –
I can sense it in their nonverbal cues (well, they really only want to hear that everyone is starting to move on and we're doing better, day by day).
There seems to be this sentiment that somehow there is a time limit on
how long deep grief should go on. I know
because I used to believe that. Oh, I
would never say it quite like that, but I think I must have had a feeling that
people shouldn’t remain in a depressed mode, after all, it can’t change the
circumstance. Now I know better. When sorrow so deep overwhelms your life,
there is no escape. There is no
relief. There is nothing worth moving on
to. My brother-in-law, Luke, said, “Phoenix’s birth was an
earthquake. Her death was a tidal wave.” When you’re sucked under a personal tidal
wave, it’s like watching everyone around you breathe as you drown.
A Hope
Eventually, there must be relief. "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all
the days of my life." And that means even
through all of this. A
mother could never “get over” her child’s death.
But I guess she eventually learns how to continue breathing and living in spite of it. Time doesn’t heal, but it does soften the raw
edges.
God makes all things beautiful in their time. And He has set eternity in the hearts of
men. He must be glorified through
this. That little girl was so special
and impacted so many lives in her too short 19 months. I know I am forever changed by this season of
death. I will not take a single day for
granted.
A List of Myths About Grief
I found this list of common myths helpful to think through. How many of these do we subconsciously believe, I wonder?
Myth: People with a
strong faith don’t grieve.
Myth: You should
pretty much be back to normal after 2-3 months.
Myth: You can tell
how much a person loved the one who died by how deeply and long the person
grieves the loss.
Myth: Resolving your
grief means putting your loved one out of your mind and moving on with your
life.
Myth: Christians
shouldn’t grieve if they know their loved one is in Heaven. They should only feel joy.
Myth: Only immediate
family members will experience significant grief.
Myth: Continuing to
talk about the person who died only makes the pain last longer.
Myth: Grief proceeds
through very predictable and orderly stages.
Myth: After a loved
one has died, you can never be happy again.
{Myths from Ch. 10 in A Time To Grieve,
by Kenneth C. Haugk}
by Kenneth C. Haugk}
This is a beautiful post. So many good points. All I can say is that we should continue to talk about Phoenix forever - Let's never let her memory fade! I love you, Becky.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jacq.
DeleteYou have such a gift for writing Becky. I never got to meet Phoenix, but feel so many connections to her through knowing you and the Colemans.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Megan.
DeleteYou truly do have a gift for writing. So many of the things you wrote here really resonated with me. My brother-in-law committed suicide 20 years ago, and I still have moments of grief. It is still hard to talk about him without crying. What you said about having everyone around you breathe as you drown is a perfect description, and it doesn't even have to be grief over a death. I remember when I was doing my first community theatre production - Hawthorne's Kismet - and my youngest son was diagnosed with cerebral palsy at 10 months old. I couldn't face rehearsal that night, but I did go the following night, and I remember it feeling very surreal. My whole life had changed, but nothing else had. People were still having fun, joking, laughing, and I honestly felt like I was looking at them from underwater. I remember thinking "don't they understand that it's the end of the world?" My son was alive, but I was grieving just the same.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you continue to write about Phoenix, and I'm happy to read about her. My heart hurts for her parents and for you and everyone else who knew and loved her. I pray that someday the pain will lessen or somehow be easier to bear. You are in my thoughts.
I think I was in that show with you. So sorry I didn't know what you were going through at the time. Thank you for your comments.
Delete