Let Us Have Friday

Last week on Good Friday, I posted the following update on Facebook: 

"I woke up this morning with thoughts of shopping with friends, what I was going to make for dinner, and if I had everything ready for the kids' Easter baskets for Sunday. A few hours into my day, I realized it was Good Friday, and for the first time in my life, that thought hit me like a ton of bricks. This is long, but bear with me. I have always known what Good Friday symbolizes- the death of Jesus Christ. The day that our Savior DIED. Why have I always skimmed over this? I know why, and it is a decent reason. I want to get to the celebration. I want to get to Sunday. But today, for the first time, the thought of Jesus being dead for three days took my breath away. A world without Jesus. 

At preschool, we talk all year about Jesus- and the students truly learn to love Him. When we read the story of the crucifixion there are always gasps and 'noooo's. I want to feel that shock too. That feeling of desperation and sobering realization of what Christ did for ME. I hope I never skim over the sacrifice that He made. And you better believe that the celebration on Sunday will be huge. 🙌🏼 "

Since Friday, I cannot stop thinking about the fact that we overlook the suffering of Christ. We love the hope. We love the redemption. We are able to overlook the pain because we already know the ending. Christ overcomes death. He saves us. He is not defeated. We honestly don't have to worry about the hard part because of the phenomenal joy that we know is coming. 

Throughout this Easter weekend I have been mulling over these thoughts to the point of distraction. I really believe that God wanted to show me something else, something deeper, and so he drilled it into my head the past few days until I 'got it'. 

I am in no way a writer. I fumble over words and later think of ways I could have said it better. I hope my ramblings aren't misinterpreted or misunderstood, but here it goes. 

I believe that Easter changes everything. The fact that Jesus lives revolutionized the world. His power and love defeated death. Defeated suffering and pain. Brought HOPE. Most Christ followers know these facts and believe them wholeheartedly. These teachings are not my unique thoughts- they are common knowledge in the Christian world and the reason that we follow Jesus. 

But here's the thing. Jesus suffered unimaginable pain and suffering on that Friday thousands of years ago. He DIED. People grieved. People wept. People were angry. And those within their group, those that they considered to be 'their people', most likely did not question their emotional reaction to the death of Jesus. They probably allowed their friends to feel and hurt without minimizing their pain. 

Fast forward two thousand years later. We overlook pain and suffering. We minimize it. And Christians are THE WORST. Now don't be offended. But I really think we as Christians do a horrible job at walking with people through their suffering.  

Our family has gone through unimaginable pain and suffering in the past year and a half. My sister and her husband lived- and are living- through terrible tragedy. Burying two children within 16 months of each other is unspeakable in terms of pain. Add in the passing of our dear aunt and beloved grandpa and we as a family have dealt with a lot of loss. Some days it [still] feels like it can't be real. That there has to be a different ending to our story. 

Grief, pain, suffering, and just hard stuff are all very real and happen without fail to all of us. Pain does not bypass Christ followers just because we have the hope of Christ. And we as a group need to recognize this, and respond in a much better manner. 

Too many times in the past years, we have heard things like: "at least those babies are with Jesus", and "at least we have the Hope of Christ", and "it's a good thing you have faith in Christ, he will see you through." These sentiments were [mostly] said with good intentions, and they are all true. Please do not think that I am ungrateful for the hope that Christ offers- and that I so gratefully cling too. But why, WHY do we so easily overlook the suffering and grief as being REAL. We either minimize it or overlook it entirely. We expect people to grieve quickly and neatly and move right on to the hopeful part of the story. It's what we do with Easter, and it's what we typically do to people who are suffering. 

In my pain, I want my 'people', and especially those who follow Christ, to just hurt with me. To validate that this suffering is HARD. Not to point out a silver lining- because sometimes there isn't one. Yes there is always hope. But sometimes things are just hard. Are just horrible. Are unthinkable and tragic. I want people to surround me and cry with me when I need to weep. The most comforting things that have been said to our family sound more like "I cannot even imagine the pain", or "this hurts. I don't know what to say, but I hurt with you", or even "I will be praying for you as you grieve. As you start this journey that no one wants to travel". 

Recently at a conference I attended, the speaker, Sheila Walsh, talked a lot about pain. She pointed to a verse in Proverbs that I had never noticed. Chapter 25 verse 20 says, 

"Like one who takes away a garment on a cold day or like vinegar poured on a wound, is one who sings songs to a heavy heart." 

Woah. This is what we do so much of the time! We act like the hope we have in Christ negates the pain that we feel. No! Did Jesus rising out of the grave make all that pain he felt only three days before become nonexistent? Of course not. I truly and deeply believe that we sometimes act like it does. We act like the hope heaven means that death does not deserve grief. That suffering does not deserve pain. That hard stuff does not deserve acknowledgement. 

I am probably the worst culprit. Pain and suffering and grief is uncomfortable. I like joy. I like seeing smiles and hearing the laughter that comes with hope. I don't allow others to simply hurt. I don't allow myself to fully feel grief. Because I have hope, right? I know the end of the story- so I should move on quickly and not have messy, grief- filled days. Wrong. We are allowed to weep. We are supposed to feel hurt. We need to walk with people through their darkest days. 

Do we need to make sure our people know about the hope that is in Christ? Absolutely. Does that mean we need to overlook their pain? Absolutely not. We need to be better at simply letting people feel. 

As Christians we HAVE to start doing better. I need to start doing better. 

We will get to the joy of Sunday someday- of that I am fully certain. But today we might need to feel pain.

Let's allow people to have their Friday. 

 

2 Weeks

2 weeks. 14 days. 

2 weeks ago life was normal. We had a quiet Sunday at home and I was preparing to go back to work after Christmas break on Monday. I texted my sister throughout the day, talking about nothing in particular and sending her ideas for her baby's nursery. We were happy. We were hopeful. And we never anticipated what the next 36 hours would bring. 

2 weeks. 2 weeks that feel like a thousand years but also feel like 10 seconds. 2 weeks that have been both surreal and all too real. 

When Emily and Justin told us they were pregnant, we were completely overjoyed. We celebrated. And planned. And prayed for the sweet baby who would join our family. And dreamt of a future with a sweet little baby who would be one month old for our friend-cation. Who would be four months old for our family trip to Disney. Who would be six months old at Christmas. We had big hopes and big dreams. So the phone call I got 13 days ago literally knocked me down. No heartbeat. Emily would be induced at 7pm. She would deliver a baby who was already with Jesus. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not to the couple who had survived this nightmare just 16months  before. Who had never wavered and had proclaimed the goodness of their God through their worst nightmare. This could not be happening. But it was. And it did. And I was mad. Why?  Why would our loving God allow this to happen to my sister again? To our family again? 

Emily and Justin were strong and focused and Katie Elizabeth Smith was born at 6:42 on January 5. She was loved and held and treasured for the short time that we had with her. She now knows perfect pace in the presence of Jesus and her brother Caden. Heaven is feeling more and more like home now, and we long to be there. 

We rejoice knowing that Katie is with her maker and will never experience pain or sorrow. But here on earth it hurts. It cuts deep. I feel wounded and defeated and confused and angry. My sister and her Justin are undoubtedly the strongest people I know. They are hurting. But they have never doubted the goodness of God. The day after Katie was born, Emily told me that she wasn't angry with God at all. Wow. What? Because I was angry. And still struggle with being angry. Oh I know that God is good. And I know that He has been sustaining us. And I don't love him any less. But I don't understand and so I am mad. My heart is broken and is having a hard time catching up with what my mind knows about our God. That he loves us. And he is good. And his ways are not my ways. 

Grief is hard. And weird. And definitely a process. Grief is also so different for every person. For me, I am grieving the niece that I won't get to snuggle. The niece that I was going to get to spoil. The cousin that my kids were anticipating with excitement. So I grieve. Bitterly. But just as strong as my grief for my sweet niece is, my grief for my sister is just as intense. This is the person who has been my closest friend. The person that I share everything with. The person who loves my kids as her own. The person that I have looked up to for my entire life. The person who I love more than almost anyone. My person. No one should have to lose a child. No one. But it is unthinkable that anyone should have to go through it twice. Especially my sister. My grief for her is strong. Watching someone that you love go through something so terrible hurts so much. I feel physical pain for her. I wish it would have happened to me instead of her again. I would do anything to take away her pain and it makes me so angry that I can't do anything to help or stop her pain. So I grieve. And try to process. And try to trust. 

Emily and Justin's strength and faith are unbelievable. But they are hurting and grieving. Please don't forget to pray. We feel the prayers and are not back to normal life yet. Please don't forget to pray. Pray for strength. Pray for faith. Pray for hope to come again. 

I know that God is good. I know that his love for us is huge. I know that his plan is perfect. I am now waiting and praying that my heart can heal. I know that it will. Because He cares for me and loves me. Even when I am mad.