Let me tell you about one of the most important people in my
life.
But now that I’ve written that one sentence declaring my
intensions, words seem to allude me. Where do I start? How do I talk about
someone so dear to me in such a vulnerable, eloquent way so that the beautiful
person that she is is accurately portrayed? I guess the answer is to just write
and hope for the best. So, please, bear with me.
My aunt is so cool. FBI, Special Agent. Not just any agent,
mind you. Special Agent. (Yeah, she’s
a big deal.) Everyday for the last 20+ years she has dedicated her time, her
brainpower, and her whole heart into her work, saving lives and putting criminals
behind bars. In one afternoon, she could be undercover as a middle-aged man
who’s bagging my groceries at the local Wal-Mart for all I know and, in the
same afternoon, corner the bad guy, take him down in one foul swoop, send him
to central booking, and make it home for 6:00 dinner and the usual “hi, honey,
how was your day” (as if her day wasn’t straight out of Mr. and Mrs. Smith).
Granted, she has never really detailed her work with me. But
I can’t imagine that a job at the FBI – no matter the area of focus – doesn’t
come without risks. I’ll never actually know, but I undoubtedly believe she
has, at times, risked her life to help people who may never know her name. You
see, her area of focus within the Bureau is child kidnappings and sex
trafficking. If that isn’t a picture perfect example of selflessness, I dare to
ask, “what is?”
And every super hero has to have a day off, right? I mean,
even God rested on the seventh day. With that in mind she did just that – rest.
Rested in God’s presence, His goodness. In her faithful quiet times, she would
record the lessons, the verses, or the quotes from biblical scholars on index
cards and then she would mail them out. Out to family, out to church family
members, out to co-workers, sometimes anonymously, just as a reminder that you are important and that you are loved by the Creator of the universe,
loved by Almighty God Himself. How powerful is that?
And you know, they weren’t like penned on with a black ink
pen in some signature half-cursive, half-print fashion. No, they were painted, printed in perfect block
lettering (which, to this day, I’m still convinced she used a stencil. I mean, no one could have that neat of handwriting naturally. Nope. She did.), complete with
a cute colorful doodle or drawing. I was lucky enough to have been sent one every single week while I was in
college. Do you know how many that is?? It’s a lot, in case you were wondering;
each one crafted uniquely beautiful and different than those sent to my three
other sisters in the same week.
Oh, and did I mention that she’s quilting 25 quilts to send
to orphanages in Haiti for Christmas?? Again, all beautifully unique. Yeah, let
me just leave that here, too. All, of
course, while raising her beautiful 13-year-old gymnast and being a boss
wife without a hitch. What an
inspiration.
She’s the aunt that would listen to my middle school drama
intently…as if it were a matter of life or death (which, to be fair, it was a matter of life or death to an
insecure middle schooler …life and death socially,
that is. Y’all, middle school is rough). She’s the aunt that has helped me
through heartbreak and who pokes fun at new and exciting crushes. She’s the
aunt who officially named a room in her house “Sarah’s” because I was over so
often. She’s the aunt who drove and hour and a half just to see my lose the
Homecoming crown in high school and the aunt who gawks with me at
O.U.T.R.A.G.E.O.U.S outfits that people dare to don in public. She’s just so
cool.
I watched the example that she and my mom set as best
friends. Some would mistake them for sisters…and I guess they were, but only
officially by marriage. The two of them showed me constant love, unconditional
grace, and consistent joy. My mom and my aunt are undoubtedly the strongest two
womanly influences in my life. If I could be half the friend, confidant, godly servant, sister and one day wife
and mother that they both are, I would be so incredibly lucky.
It goes without saying that I am so, so blessed.
--------------------
But now that I’ve rambled long enough to momentarily forget
the point of this post, let’s address the title, shall we? Beauty in Grief. Did you know there’s five stages of grief? Yeah,
well, I had the sick pleasure of skipping the first stage of grief (or maybe
the denial was just short lived, who knows?) and going straight to the second
stage: anger.
And let me tell you: I’m angry. I’m so incredibly,
undeniably, uncharacteristically angry. I’m angry at God:
“God, why? WHY ?!!!!?
HOW IS THERE ANY GOOD IN THIS? ANY!!!
HOW COULD YOU EVEN CONSIDER TAKING SOMEONE
SO FAITHFUL, SO LOVING, SO SELFLESS SO YOUNG?!
WHY IS SOMEONE SO INTENSIONALLY DEDICATED
TO BENEFICIALLY IMPACTING THIS WORLD FOR YOUR KINGDOM SUFFERING SO MUCH?! WHY,
GOD?!
WHY HER AND NOT ME?!
Why is my aunt dying of cancer? Can you
riddle me that, God?”
These are the questions I asked God everyday for the three
weeks leading up to her passing.
These are the questions I would quietly ask in my heart while I
struggled to put on a strong façade for my younger cousin. These are the
questions that I would scream at the top of my lungs when I was finally alone
in my car. These are the questions I would weep with a broken heart to God
every single night for those three weeks. Why, God? Why?
I tried to find comfort in the words of others that were
passed along to me, but found some snarky reply that countered them all:
“I don’t know why this is happening, but Jesus does. Take heart, dear
friend.”
“Well wouldn’t it just be peachy if He cared
to share it with the class…”
“I’ll pray for you.”
“Won’t do any good. I’ve tried.”
“I’m here for you.”
“More than I can say about God.”
“Don’t be angry with God. Just talk to Him.”
“Too late. I’ve tried that and lookie where
we are anyway…”
And with every passing snarky reply and bitter thought, my
heart was further hardened and God’s voice became that much more muffled.
Finally anger turned to despair.
“No one understands the depth of my hurt.”
I do.
“This searing pain of loss is so real, so tangible.”
Now you know how I felt.
“But she’s doing so much good; she’s still so young.”
So was my Son.
“I’m not ready for this.”
I am.
--------------------
You see, friends, the anger and bitterness that resided in
my heart prevented me from hearing God’s voice at all; my heart was so
intensely hardened by the circumstances surrounding the eventual loss of my
aunt that I was entirely incapable of
seeing any resemblance of goodness.
But the truth of the matter is that “God works all things
for the good of those who love Him” (Romans 8:28).
And so let’s just be honest for a second: I don’t
understand. I didn’t understand then and I still don’t understand now, five
months later. In fact, I don’t know that I’ll ever understand the why’s, the how’s, the when’s. I have zero
confidence that I’ll be able to truly find the good that He has promised in
this. But here’s the thing:
God is almighty, all-powerful, all-controlling. He tells the
moon when to shine and when to hide; He gives the dragonflies flight and the
warm summer glow of the sun light; He commands the mountains to move and they
do, and the air to become crisp and it cools. He commands it all! He is
beginning, the middle, and the end - unestablished. He has always been and
always will be! We can’t even begin to comprehend it because we can’t yet grasp
the intensity and the unimaginable glory that is God. We weren’t meant to
understand God fully - we couldn’t handle it! That’s where faith comes in;
faith that the goodness is there, despite what our minds perceive.
That’s the only thing I’m holding onto in these stages of
grief: that it’s okay not to
understand but to simply have faith that God has not turned His ears to my
cries.
Hebrews 10:23 says, “Let us hold tightly without wavering to
the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep His promises.” If God keeps
His promises, then let us take heart that Jesus has overcome the world (John16:33) – including cancer! – and He will give you that much needed rest
(Matthew 11:28).
May God fill you with courage, dear friend, and bring
healing to your ailing heart. Let us wait, knowing the days of sorrow will soon
pass. In the meantime, rest assured that Jesus will wipe away your tears,
replace your sorrowful sigh with laughter, and turn your grief into joy.
Take heart in the beauty and the peace that God grants
through grief. You are not alone, friend.
