POSSIBLY the
saddest of all articles I’ll ever write, this one is steeped also in a joy that
all I want to do is describe. I write these words through tear-stained eyes lubricated
with precious saline, chest heaving for one’s still recent loss, but able to
see that through such a depth of eternity’s disconnect in loss, there is great
joy for the hope set before me. I will see my son again.
Yet, my healing
is not contingent on something I cannot experience now.
I am healed even
as I connect with my loss.
My healing is
set upon the very connection with my
loss, which is the very eternal disconnection any of us who have lost a loved
one know fully about. These two go magnificently together: a loss that cannot
ever be redeemed and a healing that takes place as we take that grief
into the heart of God.
The two are
connected. And everyone needs to know about it. Loss is not the end. It is the
beginning in terms of life truly having its correct bearing.
We are missing
out on life until we have lived and loved and lost.
Only having lost
have we come to know what it is like to go back to nothing.
To go back to
nothing is to go back into the Godhead and to gain sense for oneness; for life
without idols.
I never feel
closer to God nowadays than going there by a very special ritual; to lament the
true and eternal sadness that lingers wistfully in my soul for the loss of my
second son. My Nathanael, you have given me so very much, and you continue to.
And God, you make it possible.
As I pour out my
heart, loneliness away from him who will not return to me combines with the
safe and soul-soothing Presence of God; sorrow for what he and we went through
intermingles with a soul-cleansing I’ve only ever known in my deepest pain.
***
We miss out on
life until we have lived and loved and lost. The person who strides into the
arena of life — with no thought to the pain of loss other than to go into it with
God — reaps a rich reward. They do not go into the pain intrepidly, but
deliberately, with their God. And God shows them something incredible.
Into the sadness
we take the divine. Actually we go there with the Spirit who is already there.
The harder, more gut-wrenching our pain, the more we ought to sense the healing
touch of God. But we can only experience such a thing if we have lost our life
in order to gain it. We might only understand that as a concept if we’ve been
through it.
It’s possible
that the deeper the pain of loss, the higher the heights of experience of God’s
healing Presence.
The eternal
disconnect in loss connects us with healing through God’s felt Presence.
Sit there and
sob your tears knowing God feels with
you; healing is yours, incoming.
© 2015 Steve
Wickham.
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