It has been nearly eight months since Nick died. My grandchild. Charlie's grandson. My children's son and nephew. My grandchildren's brother and cousin. His young life cut off and ended at the youthful age of sixteen. His driver's license three weeks old in the wallet handed to his parents.
I wrote about Nick's death in the previous blog thinking that I would journal my way through grief. But it didn't work that way. I couldn't write about this horrific family loss because all of a sudden I realized that my heart had frozen and locked up like a computer. There was nothing I could do to get it going again. I couldn't write about anything! Not even simple thank you notes. Whenever I started to write, I would stare out the window. I was numb and mute like the cold icey outdoors. When asked when I was going to blog again, I could only shake my head in silence. Sometimes I would say, "When the Lord gives, I guess." And I wondered, would He ever choose to give again?"
I talked to my friend who is a counselor. She said, "Betsy, you are trying to process your grief. Don't do that. When you are in so much pain, you can't process. Just lean into Jesus and let Him comfort you in His way and in His time."
That was very good counsel. I heard the Lord speaking to me through her words. It's the advice that I'd pass on to anyone who is suffering from deep loss. Lean into Jesus and let Him comfort you in His way and in His time. So that's what I did and that's what I am still doing. I have been amazed at the special comfort that He gives and sends into our deepest pain. I've given it a name - God's Customized Comfort. It's tailor made for us but we have to learn to lean into Him and receive it. Isn't that what the Christian's joyful journey is all about - "learning to lean , learning to lean, learning to lean on Jesus," as the beautiful old hymn tells us?
But lately, just lately, I feel a thawing, a melting deep within the innermost parts of my soul. It's like being in the northwoods and hearing a trickle of water surging up in the deep snow of a long winter. When you hear it, you pause and ask, "Is winter melting? Can it be? Will the newness of spring really come?"
Creative thoughts are beginning to gently rise like little bubbles in a kettle of water that sits on a gas flame and is almost ready to boil. There are things I want to write down and share about God's Customized Comfort. His goodness and tenderness in His care for me doing this time has been so healing. He has used His Word and He has brought people in ways that I could never have imagined before Nick went to be with Him. I would like to comfort others with the comfort that He has given me: "who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble , with the "customized" comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." II Cor. 1:4
Am I through the valley? No, I'm not. There is still a long walk ahead. I know that. In the "old days" women wore black for a year when they were mourning a lost loved one. That seems like a long time to wear black clothes but grief takes a long time. I've learned that. Maybe, after a year, my heart will reach into its closet, throw the black mourning veils in the hamper and clothe itself in colors again. Meanwhile I continue day by day to follow my friend's wise counsel and to lean into the pain finding that God's comfort is real and underneath are His Everlasting arms.
Aslon has been there and He is healing. I am listening, perhaps, maybe..... I hear the trickling stream and Narnia is starting to melt.
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