The language of grief during this Christmas season

My head knows all the things. Owen is perfectly healed and safe in the arms of Jesus in heaven. He would never want to come back here again, not after what he has been seeing and experiencing. Who, besides our Lord and Saviour to Whom we owe everything, would want to leave perfection for this sin cursed world?

But my mama heart is so shattered. I don’t want Owen in heaven right now. I want him here with me, doing the things he loved - especially during the Christmas season. I want our family back together, whole and complete. My desire is for each of my children to know the Lord and be with Him in heaven when they die. But I don’t want any of them there right now. I want to keep them close to me. I want Owen back so that I can physically care for him, enjoy him, make more memories and watch him grow up. Owen’s death goes against the natural course of things according to our human minds.

Some may think that because we have other children, we can now focus on them and the blessings they are. I agree each child is a gift from God, but they do NOT fill the void of Owen’s death. Nothing can. There is no fixing what has happened. We, and those supporting us, have to hold space for the grief and pain, and realize that nothing will ever be as it was. Our other children can never replace Owen. Having other children does not lessen the immense ache and horrible pain of what we went through and are still going through. One way someone came alongside me was with two simple questions asked that will forever stick with me: What was your grief like this week? What do you miss most about Owen? I don’t have words for the deep deep appreciation of that kind of loving care and support.

My grief experience has brought me to the hospital to check out the persistent sharp stabbing chest pain I’ve been having. Thankfully all is functioning well, it’s simply the pain of my grief. I have to figure out where to channel all my love for Owen and how that will look as time goes on. The lack of desire to eat and care for myself due to guilt is another affect of what we went through with Owen. However, one of the most surprising hurdles I’ve had to deal with is frustration and anger and not being able to face people. I have changed a lot and both Rick and I did not expect how Owen’s death would really affect me. Grief doesn’t always follow logic. I find myself still praying for Owen. It’s a mothers instinct; I pray for each of my children and I find myself asking the Lord to take care of Owen and keep him safe. I also struggle to stand at his grave while it’s raining as I feel so awful that his temporary marker is getting rained on, his grave is getting rained on, and maybe he’s feeling wet and cold.

I have been learning to look at grief as a new language to become fluent in. It’s not some journey that I need to complete and move on from. This is something we will live with forever, and right now I’m trying to learn how to do that. Sorrow is my normal life right now. You don’t get over the loss of your child - ever. Right now, my mind still can’t make sense of everything that has happened.

For Christmas this year, we still got some gifts for Owen. We let the kids open them in honour of him, and we got things Owen would have loved so our kids can now remember him when using them. We have had a very slow, simple Christmas season as we navigate everything without our firstborn son. The strength that comes from mourning your child, knowing what he would’ve loved to be doing but isn’t here to do it, trying to do special things for your living children, wrapping gifts for all your children knowing one of them won’t be opening his gifts himself this year - it’s a strength that is unmatched.

I have been learning many things and the biggest of those is seeing God and Who He is in a new light. He has been so gentle, providing encouragement and feeding my soul in kind and loving ways. He has shown His steady grace and faithfulness even in the midst of spiritual battle and big heavy questions. As much as I have been struggling, the Lord is there assuring me that “You are mine. I bought you with a price, and you are precious to me. No one and nothing can snatch you from My hand” (from Nancy Guthrie’s devotion book of HOPE). And so I continue to cling to God. But, there are days when life feels so hard and heavy that I plead with the Lord to keep holding on to me as I have no strength left. A special song that was played at Owen’s funeral as we, the family, walked in and one I’ve been going back to is He Will Hold Me Fast (and I thank a special friend for encouraging me with this song):

“When I fear my faith will fail,

Christ will hold me fast;

When the tempter would prevail,

He will hold me fast.

I could never keep my hold

Through life’s fearful path;

For my love is often cold;

He must hold me fast.

(Refain) He will hold me fast,

He will hold me fast;

For my Saviour loves me so,

He will hold me fast.”

Having faith in Jesus and His victory over death does not stop grief. As believers, the hope of seeing Owen again one day in heaven does not take away or alleviate the excruciating pain his death has brought. But God is acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3). As Nancy Guthrie says in her book Holding On To Hope, God is “not trying to rush us through our sadness. He’s sad with us.” How powerful it is to know God is here sitting with us, with me, in pain and sorrow and sadness. My tears do not show a lack of faith, but they are precious to Him. God wants us to trust Him with our tears, to trust that He will tenderly guide us through the pain of this life if we allow Him.

“My flesh and my heart fail; But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:26

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 2Corinthians 12:9

“Hear my cry, O God; attend to my prayer. From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:1-2

Be still, and know that I am God;” Psalm 46:10a

FOOTPRINTS

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he

was walking along the beach with the LORD.

Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For

each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in

the sand; one belonged to him, and the other to

the LORD.

When the last scene of his life flashed before

him, he looked back at the footprints in the

sand. He noticed that many times along the

path of his life there was only one set of foot

prints. He also noticed that it happened at the

very lowest and saddest times in his life.

This really bothered him and he questioned the

LORD about it. "LORD, You said that once I

decided to follow You, You’d walk with me all

the way. But I have noticed that during the

most troublesome times in my life, there is only

one set of footprints. I don't understand why

when I needed You most You would leave me.”

The LORD replied,

"My precious, precious

child, I love you and I would never leave you.

During your times of trial and suffering, when

you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”

A beautiful rainbow directly lined up with Owen’s grave on one of our visits there.

Remembering Owen last year during the Christmas season.