Shadows

I don’t really feel adequate to write this post. But I feel foolish and silly moving on to other things with something so heavy so near. 

Thursday was a day to celebrate all the things we have to be thankful for. It was also my 22nd birthday. A day to rejoice in my full years. Yet on this same day in God’s providence it was time to say to one of his children - “come.” 

Gray Godwin was a 16 year old family friend. Our dad’s have been friends since the fraternity days in college. He was in the youth group I worked for, and went to Colorado with us last summer. I tutored him in Spanish. He and my youngest brother, along with the two dads, have been working on rebuilding and refurbishing an old Ski Nautique together. It sits unfinished in my grandfather’s barn.

Thursday morning Gray went Duck hunting on Lake Martin - a familiar, comfortable, soothing place full of joyful memories. He never came home. 

There really aren’t words. 

I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of Mr. Tony and Mrs. Beverly as the divers pulled their baby boy out on Friday afternoon.  

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. That’s what I kept saying to the Lord. This boy was so full of joy and life, such a caring big brother and a good friend. It isn’t fair that his life gets cut short at a mere 16 years. I cried again this morning while making breakfast because from now on, Mrs. Beverly only gets to make breakfast for four. Every single action of every day is going to be excruciating for them. 

In my mind, today Gray should be screaming War Eagle at the top of his lungs. Instead, football and College Gameday hype and championships seem silly. Don't get me wrong, I'm as big a football fan as any of them. But I know that to Gray the craziest Iron Bowl victory ever is not even worth a thought because he is in the overwhelmingly more glorious presence of the Almighty. 

I know that words are a dime a dozen, and can’t deaden the hurt that so many of my sweet Montgomery friends are feeling. But because I’m a words person, and writing is good to help me understand, because I’m far away, because my heart is excruciatingly heavy, and because maybe this little post can be a tiny part of God’s glory being proclaimed in his death, here are some themes that have been mulling in my head for the past two days. 

I’ve had several conversations in the past week about mourning and grieving. Ironically, one of them was on Thanksgiving Day. It was before I had heard from home, before I knew - but while helicopters scoped the area and rescue boats with sonar patrolled. 

To quote Mumford, because I love their way of phrasing this - “Hold onto what you believed in the light, when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight."

Here is what we know. 

Jesus wept. John 11:35 

In the next paragraph he raises Lazarus from the dead. Yet he still grieved and mourned over the death of his friend. It is ok and good and healthy to grieve. 

The friend I was talking with on Thanksgiving reminded me that in the Old Testament, mourning came in the form of sackcloth and ashes - they shared in each other’s griefs not by sharing trite sayings, or offering advice (remember how that went down with Job’s friends?) They ripped their clothes and sat there with them in their sorrow. 

Jesus enters into our grief with us. He KNOWS. As we enter into Advent, what a glorious truth to be reminded of in the incarnation. That our God became man and he KNOWS. He experienced the same grief that we do. 

And sometimes, that’s the best way to comfort and love those around us who hurt. When you hear news like this it is ok to figuratively tear your clothes in sorrow and cover yourself in sackcloth and weep. That is not a sign of weakness. 

Secondly, the thought patterns I mentioned at the beginning are my sinful tendencies, but often how we think in times like this. “It isn’t fair! No one should have to deal with this!” But no where in the Bible are those who follow Christ promised that life will be fair, or that we will be spared suffering. Rather, it is quite the opposite. Who am I to say that I could write the Godwin’s story better than the Lord?  Who am I to wish that these trials would be withheld, even from Cleve and little Anna? 

We are PROMISED in Scripture that God is sovereign. That His purposes and plans prevail. That he is ALWAYS working for our good and ultimately His glory. That He can write a better story for each of us than we could ever imagine. Who am I to think it isn’t fair that Gray only got 16 years? What a blessing and privilege for that child of God to be with him now rather than to stay here, where it’s broken. 

So this is my encouragement to those of you who may happen to read this that are grieving over the homecoming of this sweet boy, or anyone else who carries fresh wounds and gaping holes in your heart. 

This is our chance to hold on to the truth of God’s word that we know and believed in the light. This is a chance to, in the midst of deep grief, ask ourselves - Do I really believe that God is good, in holidays turned horrors? Do I really believe that God loves the Godwin family even when he takes their child and brother away? Do I really believe that this world is not all there is? Do I believe it enough to continually rejoice in my tears?

Our deep ache over death is a sharp reminder that this world is not our home. No matter how hard we try, we can’t reconcile death within us because it is not what we were created for. Death is a result of the fall. And it’s constant presence reminds us to long for heaven, to not find our significance in the shadows of this world, but to long for the new heaven and the new earth. Christ conquered death with his resurrection. The Gospel is our firm and secure hope! We deserve eternal death and hell but the creator and sustainer of the universe has given his only son to live the life we should have lived and die the death we deserved, taking our punishment and purchasing our eternal life with him. And he is making all things new. “He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” Revelation 22:20

I know that Mr. Tony and Mrs. Beverly are praising God, even in the darkest day they have seen. I am challenged and encouraged by that faith that says with Job: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” (1:21)