Comfort and Joy

Like the rest of our country, I am deeply heartbroken over the events of last Friday in Newtown, Connecticut. I keep thinking about all those precious little ones who died. I also keep thinking about the parents of those little ones. I know what it's like to lose a child, but I can't help but think that my grief would somehow be different if I had lost a child in such a sudden, horrific way.

 

Since Cole's death, I have felt a true sense of comfort and joy. One might wonder how that is possible. How do you lose a child and then feel that inner contentment? Eric and I know that our help has come from the Lord. Our faith and belief in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior has given us the assurance that Cole is having a glorious, perfect life now. He has more in Heaven than he would have ever had here on Earth; more than we could ever imagine. Our faith also gives us certainty that we will one day see Cole again. I heard someone this morning on television speaking about joy in the midst of grief, and it confirmed how I have felt since losing Cole. Joy is not the same as happiness. When I am hit with a wave of sadness, my joy is still there. It's an underlying, peaceful feeling that is hard to describe. I believe it's a gift.

 

In the spirit of the Christmas season, I pray the parents in Newtown will find comfort and joy as they deal with their sorrow. I pray the same for anyone who has lost a child or other loved ones. The pain may run deep, but joy is possible.

 

 



 

 

Safely Home

 

Let your grieving be not long,

for I'm home at last where I belong.

Understand - if I were given a choice,

I'd remain here where I now rejoice.

 

It would be unthinkable to return to earth

from this land of matchless beauty and worth.

Gazing at Christ's loving, majestic face,

I know deeper dimensions of grace.

 

Do not think I tasted death 'before my time',

rather it was precisely in God's wise design.

At the appointed moment He opened the door

to wonders and splendors undreamed before.

 

It's all true - never fear,

and soon you will join me here

Where there's no more crying, no more sorrow,

with Christ the Lord in every tomorrow.

 

- Mae Fortson

 

It's Okay to Ask

It's okay to ask me about Cole.

I appreciate the thoughtfulness of friends and family who ask me about Cole's life, death, and how I am dealing with it. There are some who never ask, and well, it hurts. I try my best to give them the benefit of the doubt since I know that everyone deals with loss very differently. But really, if I'm face to face with someone, and I know that they know what happened last year, and they don't ask me about any of it, then I feel like there's a big elephant in the room. And then I feel disappointed, confused, and angry. Do they want to spare my feelings?  Do they want to just spare their own feelings? Have they forgotten about Cole? Is that even possible? I don't know the answer, and I surely never confront them. I guess at some point I won't expect to be asked all the time, and I pray that will happen sooner than later. Grief is a process though, and I don't know that I can change it or speed it up. So for now I want to be asked. Maybe I need to be asked. And if you've asked already, I really, truly am thankful.