It seems like so many people have been going through so many things, recently . . . but then again, I said that last year, and the year before, etc. As I leaned over and told someone this week at the funeral of one of our church members, while we were grieving with and for the family, “death stinks!” Sometimes, I just have to process that, and then I remember that we don’t grieve as those who have no hope, if we are followers of Christ (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18). Thank God for Christ’s sacrifice, that death is not the end for those who are His!
Still, there is a time to grieve, and I am feeling that right now. I have cried and prayed for the Steven Curtis Chapman family in the death of their daughter Maria, and especially for their son who was driving the SUV, throughout the last couple of days. The family was reportedly in the midst of celebrating the oldest daughter’s engagement and was about to go to the oldest son’s high school graduation when this occurred. They weren’t in any way expecting tragedy to enter their lives on that day. May this be a reminder to all of us that we never know when our life will end or just change drastically, but when we see things like this, it can remind us of how every day of life is a gift from God. May we not take those days for granted, and may we all be ready to cling to God when one of these changes occurs in our lives.
As I was recently having an online discussion about this event, the issue was brought up that there are always tragedies in this world to grieve over, including things like the incomprehensible number of deaths from the earthquakes in China or the starvation that occurs every day all over the world. We usually don’t focus on those as much, because we don’t know how to help. As one person in the discussion said, maybe it’s because “80,000 dead in China this week is so hard to comprehend and harder to pray for other than ‘God please have mercy’ on that country.” Our brains sometimes can’t wrap around that kind of tragedy, but when we hear of one individual person’s grief or struggle, we can feel a sense that we can do something to help. Eric sometimes reminds me that I’m not actually accomplishing anything by dwelling on all the hurts of everyone in the world. Playing over their grief in my mind is what I naturally do, but I’m not actually ministering to them by doing that. However, when I grieve and PRAY, I can minister, and I can do the only thing that I can do . . . draw closer to the Lord, myself. I am persuaded that grief is a gift from the Lord. He allows us to know the pain of what is wrong in this life, that we might hope that much more for the next, in eternity with Him.
May this event and the earthquakes and the starvation all be reminders to us of the breath that our lives really are and how futile clinging to things in this world truly is. So, as we grieve for the terrible sadness in this world, of which there is never a shortage, may we take the opportunity to pray for the hurting, draw closer to the Lord, and look forward to the Day when all this tragedy will disappear. May we be solid in trusting that God is sovereign AND good before these things happen, so that we can be ready for the doubt that will bombard us when that day of grief comes our way. Until then, may we weep with those who weep and pray for our brothers and sisters who grieve, because when one part of the body suffers, the whole body suffers with it (1 Corinthians 12:26-27).
Donna, as you said in your opening paragraph, Christ is our hope and death is not the end… but I am often concerned that people will think that means we skip over the grief and go straight to rejoicing. I am confident that’s not what you meant (as is clear from the rest of what you said). But I’m reminded of a White Horse Inn podcast that stresses the horror of death (it’s slightly shocking, but in the service of a good point):
Having said that, I also remember that Paul said it was better to die and be with the Lord, and I don’t want to minimize in any way the hope we have in Christ. But that loses much of its impact, I think, if we just approach the whole thing with happy faces and “looking on the bright side.” Death is terrible, unnatural, alien, wrong, and certain. Only in the depth of that horror — the “Valley of Vision” — can we see the greatness of Christ’s death and resurrection and comprehend how great a salvation he bought for us.