I found this video by Dr. John Piper both interesting and thought provoking.
We do not always know how to respond to our sorrow. Because we are in the middle of our jumbled up thoughts, we struggle to make sense of what’s up or down. But, that does not mean that there is not a way to mourn that is explicitly Christian. That we can’t be reminded and encouraged in and through the pain and grief we feel.
I find Dr. Piper’s thoughts helpful. It does not matter what you are mourning, know that God is with you!
In Memory of
Jacob Carlyle Davis
August 20, 1986 – December 28, 2010
Two years ago my family experienced one of the most devastating events we had ever faced. Two years ago my brother-in-law died in a car accident. The “facts” of what happened simply do not have the ability to communicate the emotions that I feel this morning as I remember him and how much I miss him. His mom and sister (my wife) feel a different kind of pain. Their knowledge of him was intimate, personal and began from before Jacob entered into the world. When I met him, Jacob didn’t even know who he wanted to be. He didn’t know that he was supposed to become anything. He was a chubby kid struggling to make sense of the inhumanity of middle schoolers. I knew Jacob for more than half of his life. I think that’s what hurts the most. There is no more time for us.
I know what I believe about death. As a follower of Jesus I know Jacob is with our Savior. I know. I know Jacob loved Jesus and never missed an opportunity to share this with those around him. I know he loved helping others get over what ailed them. He was good at that. But, he is no here to help me! He is gone and I miss him.
All of the cute things that we say sometimes really don’t help. “He lives on in our memories.” Yeah, well memories have a tendency to fade. “His love will carry you through.” OK, thanks but, I’d rather feel the warm embrace rather than the cold recollection of a time gone by.
I woke up this morning and saw some of the comments of those who loved Jacob as they remembered him. I was overwhelmed by the flood of emotion that I felt as I read them. I have heard that the depth of our pain is a reflection of the love we had/have for those now gone. I guess I loved/love him more than I realized. This is the realization I didn’t expect.
Two years, and I still feel the lingering effect of death’s assault on my heart. Jacob may not have been my flesh and blood, but we were family. I have come to realize that I still miss him and that will be OK. There is no expiration date on love. For this I am grateful.