Just last night, I heard someone who had experienced a very challenging circumstance related to her one and only son with her only son. Long story short, in spite of having been the ideal child well into his twenties, her son is now serving a life sentence. I am envious of this woman’s faith and how it continues to sustain her. She obviously knows God in a way that is not familiar to my experience . . . at least since December 2007.
In an interview, this woman talked about the daily choice that she and her husband have to make to live, in spite of having to give up the hopes and dreams that they had for their family. Although they are able to see their son, they have no hope of him every living the life that they had always envisioned. Obviously, we share this loss even though the circumstances are very different.
I’ve said from that first night that Christopher would be so angry if I let his death ruin my life. He never would have wanted that power, to effectively take my ability or willingness to live. And yet through my own decisions, perhaps in response to his death, but my decisions nonetheless, I am reluctant to live fully. Oh, I am moving forward and, by all appearances I am doing well. Nobody, however, knows how much energy goes into getting through each day. It is a lot of work to keep the emotions and the fears and the doubts in check. I worry that if people see how I really felt then they would try to fix it, confirming my concern that there is something wrong that I still hurt so severely. Then you have the issue of faith. I want so much to be a person who trusts God and I have concluded that the depth of my pain reflects a lack of faith. Therefore, to be a good witness to the power of the gospel, I can’t let anyone see how much I hurt.
This all leaves me isolated because that is the only way that I can ensure that I can keep it all in check, nobody to answer to.