Friday, December 08, 2006

It is interesting to me how much it means when someone asks about a particular memory of my son. We are at a place where few people know us, and even fewer actually knew BJ.

Yesterday, at lunch I was asked if BJ enjoyed a particular thing. It felt so amazing to have been asked. Usually, I find I struggle with wanting to work him into conversations. Seldom is it appropriate, but often, I will stop listening to the other as they talk, because I will get lost in thought about him or particular memories of him.

His absence creates a need within to keep him alive, at least his memory. I am not talking about spiritual things, necessarily, just everyday silly or fun things that he contributed to a situation.

He continues to be so much a part of who we are, that when his memory fades or is even absent in others, it seems like our responsibility to keep him out in front. I have found that this is uncomfortable in some situations, and is not a practice that is important for most others. I am sure that it is not unusual for parents who have lost children to do so. I am equally sure that most of the world is not equipped to deal with this issue. It seems pathetic at times.

I don't like being pathetic. It is painful, uncomfortable...even embarrassing.

I can honestly say that time is passing so quickly right now, that often I have to convince myself of what month it is.

Seasons are different, surroundings are different, people are different, yet my thoughts seem to reside back in the days when the world made a little more sense to me. When I had three children to raise, to love on, to hug..to hold.

The Lord has provided many opportunities for us to love on our daughters, both in person, and from a distance. Sometimes, it just seems like there is something so unfair about it all.

There is a popular fairy-tale movie that carries the line, "I died that day." The circumstances were a world apart from our own, but too often, I feel like the line applies.

There are days when life seems like an out of body experience. I know I am here, I am doing things, even being productive. However, the recovering addict motto of "fake it 'til you make it," seems to be where things are. Just trying to go through the motions of being alive and of value until such time that I really live.

Each day brings new situations, new drama, new dilemmas, new joy, new friends...new challenges. But sometimes, the greatest challenge of all, is just truly trying to live, when a part of me has died.

I think I will lose some of you here, but I believe that our lives in Christ are similar...hopefully without the melancholy, and sad tones.

That day that we surrendered ourselves to His Lordship and Saving grace, we gave up our rights to ourselves. It is no longer to be us who live, but Him through us. We impact our world, those around us as a result. We stop measuring time in the same way.

We seek faithfulness, and obedience to Him, and not the pursuit of fulfillment of self. Much of what I have described above is my own inner desire to have the things that bring fulfillment in a way that I no longer have access to...at least not as it once was.

My life now is to be about Christ, and Him crucified and resurrected. Not that it wasn't before Beej's death, but the reality has set in so much deeper, and hopefully has equipped us as a family to be available to minister in new ways...ways designed by the Master.

Yielding control will always be a struggle. Sometimes I just want what I want.

Fortunately, I serve a King who gives me grace, allows me to struggle so that I grow, and finds me to be a little more like Him, and a little less like me, each day.

I am thankful for what once was, what is, and what is yet to come. Sometimes I just need help keeping it all in focus.

dad

18 Comments:

At 10:58 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Brent -- You share such a raw and true message today. I have not lost a child. I do not, nor do I ever want to know how that feels. But yesterday, as I was sitting with a friend who had recently lost her daughter to a tragic accident, I was trying to be the comforter. It is uncomfortable to be on the other side, too. I want to be supportive, yet I don't know what to say. I hold her, I listen, and I try to encourage memories. Please know that as your heart hurts, so do the ones that care about you so much. We feel lost in a different way than you do, but we are lost too. When you're uncomfortable, so are we --- but we need each other. Please know that those that reach to you do not need acknowledgment or an okay that they've said or done the right thing --- but appreciate that it is truly from a caring and hurting heart, because they're feeling yours. Our Lord is much the same, only more profound. He feels our hurts, reaches to us and wants so much for us to understand his comfort, if we're open to it.

Much love to you and your family. I lift you all in my prayers.

 
At 11:49 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I couldn't agree more. What you wrote reminds me much of Col 3:1-4. But to know that we are alive in and relying on Christ and also that you are setting the standard in such a manner raises up an important light that I and many others do not take for granted.

 
At 12:33 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Amen and amen!!! As there are two sides to every coin, the pain of losing a child is on the one side, and the pain of trying to be the comforter and do and say the "right" things is on the other. Two different sides, one goal, living and loving for Jesus. Comforting someone who has lost is the most difficult thing I have ever done, no words, but letting the love come through is the most important. Just the hugs and the care means the world, I know. When I lost my mom, all the words I heard made no sense to me, but the quiet hugs, being held in the love of the giver, that is what makes the difference. God did not give us words to comfort (or else we would know what to say!), but arms to wrap around, shoulders to lean against, and love to flow from ourselves to the receiver. Praise God for that. Am I making any sense? Know that while there is no true words to see you through this, our arms are wrapped tightly around each of you, and through the silence, our love....

May God bless you, keep you, strengthen you, continue to use you, and pour His unconditional love upon you always~

Linda Anderson

 
At 3:51 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow Brent. Thank you for that. It really spoke to me.

~Katie

 
At 9:27 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

YOU ROCK AS A TEACHER LOVE YOUR STUDENTS.WE ARE STILL PRAYING FOR YOU. WE LOVE YOUR FAMILY AND ARE PRAYING FOR YOU AND B.J.

 
At 1:31 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Praying for you and your family

 
At 6:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Today really spoke to me. Thank you so much for your honesty, and not trying to hide anything, but showing things how they really are. Learning to give up the reigns and let God rule my life has been the biggest struggle ever. Dying to self is more than a day by day thing, it is a minute by minute, second by second kind of attitude.
I love you. so much. And I'm praying for you more than you know!!!!
Love love love!!
Mary

 
At 10:16 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Praying for some more doses of Peace!! God is the God of Peace!!

 
At 8:22 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Brent and Deanna! Please e-mail me your home address. I have some mail for you. (hlbc@scbi.org)
Merry Christmas from Highland Lakes! Miss you all.
MJR

 
At 2:25 PM, Blogger Kim Mierau said...

Pappy, I really liked this post. Well, I liked that you made me think, and reflect, and challenged me. And while it is a melancholy concept, I think you are entirely right. And there is nothing wrong with seeing the tragedy in our faith, the pain in it that gives way to such unbelievable beauty.
Love, Kim

 
At 2:26 PM, Blogger Kim Mierau said...

Pappy, I really liked this post. Well, I liked that you made me think, and reflect, and challenged me. And while it is a melancholy concept, I think you are entirely right. And there is nothing wrong with seeing the tragedy in our faith, the pain in it that gives way to such unbelievable beauty.
Love, Kim

 
At 2:26 PM, Blogger Kim Mierau said...

Pappy, I really liked this post. Well, I liked that you made me think, and reflect, and challenged me. And while it is a melancholy concept, I think you are entirely right. And there is nothing wrong with seeing the tragedy in our faith, the pain in it that gives way to such unbelievable beauty.
Love, Kim

 
At 2:29 PM, Blogger Kim Mierau said...

Pappy, I really liked this post. Well, I liked that you made me think, and reflect, and challenged me. And while it is a melancholy concept, I think you are entirely right. And there is nothing wrong with seeing the tragedy in our faith, the pain in it that gives way to such unbelievable beauty.
Love, Kim

 
At 2:33 PM, Blogger Kim Mierau said...

Pappy, I really liked this post. Well, I liked that you made me think, and reflect, and challenged me. And while it is a melancholy concept, I think you are entirely right. And there is nothing wrong with seeing the tragedy in our faith, the pain in it that gives way to such unbelievable beauty.
Love, Kim

 
At 2:34 PM, Blogger Kim Mierau said...

ahhh - sorry that posted so many times. it kept telling me it didn't work!

 
At 8:59 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

hey i'm one of mrs.higgins students
at sms. she showed the slide show
about bj and it was a inspiration to alot of people including me.
so thank you mrs.higgins!!!

 
At 9:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

hey i'm one of mrs.higgins students
at sms. she showed the slide show
about bj and it was a inspiration to alot of people including me.
so thank you mrs.higgins!!!

 
At 9:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

hey i'm one of mrs.higgins students
at sms. she showed the slide show
about bj and it was a inspiration to alot of people including me.
so thank you mrs.higgins!!!

 

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