It’s been about ten weeks now since my mother died. In this passing time period, a lot has happened.
The alarm clock still goes off in the morning. The bus continues to transport our kids to school. My husband and I still go to work. Bills must be paid. Homework has to get done. Dinner needs to be cooked. Laundry has to be washed. Bathrooms require cleaning. Fish tank water needs to be dumped and refilled. Doctor and dentist appointments still take place.
The list is long and never-ending. That’s because even in the midst of great loss, life still goes on . . .
Contrary to the saying—time does NOT stand still. Actually, it feels as though the clock ticks even faster. Because in addition to all of the usual calendar activities, time must be taken to process, grieve, and rest.
“For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die . . . A time to cry and a time to laugh . . . A time to grieve and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 2a, 4 NLT)
Yes, life has many seasons, but there is not necessarily a clean division of time chapters.
Seasons don’t always have a defining beginning or end . . . sometimes they just blend.
This means there are days that include both grief and celebration. It does not have to be one or the other—sometimes it’s combined. Moments of laughter and tears.
Jesus knew that the loss of a loved one on earth would be painful, but He also knew the power of eternal resurrected life.
Before the cross, Jesus tried to prepare His disciples for a difficult upcoming separation, “In a little while you won’t see me anymore. But a little while after that, you will see me again.” (John 16: 16 NLT)
The disciples were confused and did not understand what Jesus meant by His words.
Then Jesus explained to them how their parting and sadness would one day be overturned, “So you have sorrow now, but I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy.” (John 16:22 NLT)
As my family continues to adapt to our temporary separation from my mother, we move forward in this blended season of heartache and joy—knowing that one day we will be reunited with her. We will also meet our Savior . . . the One who made eternal family reunions possible.
If you were at the funeral in January, you might remember me speaking at the start of the eulogy about our persevering pet goldfish. Guess what? They are both still alive!!
We almost lost the darker one on Saturday. “Bud” accidentally fell (jumped out of the transfer net) onto the floor during a routine water cleaning. The hard impact was traumatizing. He painfully swam crooked that entire morning:(
We were all devestated. Tears were shed. Prayers were said. And God chose to let Bud continue to live! We are thankful for this blessing:)