Incredible Sadness

I have been so sad for the last few days. The New Year just didn’t “wow” me. The snow on the ground that usually makes me feel like a four year old child in awe and wonderment just didn’t even faze me. I am sad. I am grieving. I am confused and disappointed, yet feel extraordinarily close to God and Wade.

The enormity of my pain cannot even compare to the pain of others. How must the parents of Melissa Davis, Brandon Stovall, Morocco Hall, Mandy Smith and countless others feel? These are all classmates who have died in car wrecks. I can see Melissa’s mom sobbing over her casket at the cemetery so vividly like it was yesterday.

How must Stephen Jordan’s parents feel? Losing a precious child with so much promise to so many people, to Aplastic Anemia at age 25. Stephen was one of my dearest friends of all time. He did help to save my life 8 years ago this month. He never got to meet my Wade, but Wade is so thankful for what Stephen did to keep me alive.

How must Warren Stephen’s parents feel? Warren was killed playing at a construction site when we were in second grade. Another child with so much promise and kindness to give to the world.

How must Robbie Broome’s parents feel? A high school classmate of mine who committed suicide our sophomore year of college.

How must Phillip Luck’s parents feel? A college professor of mine who committed suicide a few years ago.

How must Amy P. feel? The death of her mother was so undeserving and well before her time.

How must all the widows feel who have lost their husbands in the war? Or the children and spouses of those who died in 9/11?

How must have Mary felt? Her son, Jesus, died on the cross to save people like me.

How unfair is the world we live in? How unjust it is to have to feel such pain all around us? Not a lick of it makes any sense to me. I guess it isn’t supposed to. I feel my life has had its share of grief that I did not ask for – many things I will not even mention here. Why?

This is the hope I cling to in my sorrow and tears – enough to fill the Atlantic Ocean. I know and I believe that my God works for the good of those who love him. I believe that he has plans to prosper me and Wade and not to harm us. I believe he has a plan for me and most of the time the picture he has for me is too big for me to understand. I believe he is holding my head up in his hands when I am too weak, too tired, too sad to hold it up on my own. I believe he will sustain me and Wade through this storm and he knows what he is doing.

I believe he is big enough for my tears, my anger, my annoyance, my disappointment and he is bigger than any grief I have experienced and anything I have yet to experience.

I believe that our Andrew is in heaven and was greeted at the gates by the many people who Wade and I have loved deeply who have gone before us. I can see Stephen telling Andrew all about me as a college girl with my bright-eyed spunkiness, and Grandma rocking him to sleep telling him about what I was like as a little girl. I can see Wade’s Papa taking Andrew fishing telling him what a wonderful man Wade grew to be, and my Grandpa taking Andrew to the “worm bed” in the back yard telling him in his quiet way about the things that matter in life – like a warm puppy to love.

I am looking forward to the day when we all will get to be a family again in heaven. What a wonderful day that will be. Until then, I will move through my grief as I know I have to, and hold fast to what I believe.