Blessings that Come with Hardship

I remember the excitement I felt when I first found out I was pregnant. We had tried for over a year to no avail. Then when we went to my mom's for Thanksgiving, she noticed I was exhausted and falling asleep whenever I sat down. She told my sister she thought I was pregnant and my sister called to ask me about it. I didn't think I was, but went to my doctor anyways. He did the blood work and told me he would let me know the results soon. Because we had tried for so long, we were totally blown away when the doctor called to say the test was positive. I was elated and in awe of the life growing inside. I was also overwhelmed because we were preparing to move away from family and friends. I chose to stay home and held my baby a lot, singing to him, reading children's books, and sometimes just chatting with him about life. Once the baby started sleeping more, I realized I had become a more reflective person, pondering both what I read in the Bible and what I heard in sermons.

The first Christmas after our baby was born, I frequently sat across from the Christmas tree, rocking him to sleep, gazing at the lights. I contemplated how differently Mary had found out about her pregnancy. I wondered what it was like for her to be visited by the angel, Gabriel. I wondered what she thought and what she felt when he told her she had found favor with God and would conceive His Son. I wondered how much she comprehended when he told her the baby would be Jesus, the Son of the Most High. I wondered what feelings flooded her soul as she heard God would give her Son the throne of David. And, I wondered if questions ran through her mind when she was told that through Him many would be saved from their sin. I didn't know the answers to all of my questions, but I did know she had quickly embraced what the angel said and understood some of what she was told because she wrote, "My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for He has looked on the humble estate of His servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call be blessed; for He who is mighty has done great things for me and holy is His name."

I also reflected on how her birth was markedly different than mine. Mine occurred in a sterile environment, surrounded by my husband, doctor. and nurses. She was alone with Joseph in a sheepfold. I found myself reflecting on the powerful feelings that surged as our son was born and I heard his first cries. I wondered what thoughts ran through her mind and what feelings coursed through her soul as she labored, gave birth, and held the Messiah child for the very first time. I wondered if she, too, had gazed into the eyes of Jesus and counted His fingers and toes like I did when I nursed our son. I knew she, too, had entered a season of reflection, because the Word said she pondered these things in her heart.

When Spring rolled around the first year of our son's life, more thoughts, questions, and fears arose in my reflective heart. As I thought about Jesus and His ministry, I became filled with awe over His powerful teaching, the miracles He performed, the loving way He interacted with hurting people. I was astonished to learn that many of His strong confrontations were aimed at the religious leaders who lead people astray. Yet, as a new mom, my mind often wandered to Mary. Did she fear for Jesus' life? Did she long for Him to walk away from the conflict surrounding Him? Was she ever tempted to go all Mama Bear on those who flung false accusations at her Son like I did a few times? Did she ever feel the need to rush to His defense when she heard the talk surrounding Him and if so, what helped her restrain her tongue? Did she long for Him to let the crowds fiend for themselves and deal with their own hurts and their own sin? Did she struggle with doubt and confusion over the things the Gabriel had told her in light of what was taking place?

In contemplating those things, I sometimes felt uneasy, realizing I could do my best to raise my kids, but there were a lot of things out of my control. There would also come a time when I would no longer be the one protecting my kids from things that go bump in the night, from those who might want to do them harm, from those who would hurl ugly insults at them, from their own mistakes, or from those who would want to lead them away from God's plans for their lives.

As I reflected on the crucifixion of Christ, I was amazed that Mary was standing there gazing at her son, God's Son as He hung on that tree. She was gazing at a face beaten so badly it was not longer recognizable. She was gazing at a Righteous One, whose innocence didn't earn Him freedom. She was gazing at a Prophet who was so bold in His preaching, yet so strangely silent on the cross. She was gazing at a Lamb as the weight of all of our sin was placed on His shoulders. She was gazing at God's Son as He cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" I wonder how she could bear the breaking of her own heart to stand their watching as the wrath of God for our sin was being poured out on Him. I wonder if she stayed to the end to watch as they took Him down and laid Him to rest. I also wondered what joy flooded her soul as she laid eyes on the Son of Man after He had risen from the grave. How did she make sense of so much sorrow and so much joy to be born in such a short time.

As I think about the role we take in motherhood, I realize for me there was no greater joy and no greater blessing to hear the words, "You are pregnant!" I was blessed to hear them five times and was filled with as much joy the second, third, fourth, and fifth times as I was the first. Mary's story taught me that just as Mary was shown favor by being chosen to be mother of the Son of God, we are chosen to be the mothers of the children God gives us. Her story has also taught me that with that blessing comes the potential for great heartache and great sorrow. To know this is true, all we have to do is to ask the mothers whose babies died before they were birthed, the mothers who birthed beautiful babies with half of their hearts missing, the mothers of children who suffer horribly with cancer and its treatment; the mothers of children laid to rest in coffins smaller than they ever should be, the mothers whose soldiers boarded planes for war zones from which they may never return, the mothers of children who have gone missing, the mothers whose children are lost in drug-filled lifestyles, the mothers whose children have been demoralized by peers, the moms of children who has been assaulted and harmed in ways children shouldn't be, or mothers whose kids struggle hard living in the pain of adult relationships gone awry.

I think there is more to learn about motherhood from Mary. She remained faithful in loving her Son on what had to have been the darkest day of their lives. The events that seemed so hopeless and so bleak were the very events that were needed to accomplish our redemption. Just as Mary could not see everything that was happening from the view she had, we can't see everything happening when we face hardship with our children. Yet, I can't help but believe that maybe her quiet presence helped the Lord in some untold way that day He hung between heaven and earth. Maybe as we come to accept that our blessing, too, will come with hardship and that in the hard God isn't calling us to control it all. That is His job. Maybe He is simply calling us to love big and to choose to stay present just like Mary did. I believe that someday we will more fully understand the hard that came with the blessings God gave us.

Living with the Hope of the Resurrection

As I was thinking about Easter and what it means to live with the hope of the resurrection, I thought of my sweet friend, Daphne, whom I’ve known for over thirty years. Five years ago, she and her husband Philip lost their oldest child in an accident. At the time, I was the administrative assistant in Dr. Norm Wright’s Trauma and grief class and I reached out to Daphne even though we were miles apart. Over these last five years she has shared her thoughts, feelings, and the lessons she has learned through her loss with me. What I love about Daphne is that she is transparent and honest about her thoughts and her feelings and she courageously reaches out when she needs support. I’ve been amazed at the strength and hope that she has and her willingness to revisit her own pain as she goes to other parents who have lost a child as she speaks hope into their lives when they most need it. I’ve been so blessed by our conversations that I asked her if she would share about living with the hope of the resurrection as a mom who has lost a child. She graciously agreed to do it. So, pull up a chair and sit a spell and read her story and hear her voice…   

The day Larry died was a beautiful sunny day. It was the weekend after spring break and we had all been together as a family since our oldest daughter, Mary, was home from Mississippi College. All four kids were looking forward to Saturday so they could celebrate Stephen's birthday mud riding at the lake bottom. After they left that afternoon, Philip and I decided it was too nice a day to work in the yard so we went for a walk together in the woods. We stopped in a place with huge pine trees and talked while staring up at the sky. I remember how peaceful, calm, and relaxing it was to just be lying there in the pine needles. We had great conversation and then decided to head back to the house, eat supper, and watch a movie. Phillip hopped in the shower while I got supper ready. I was just pulling it out of the oven when we got the first phone call from Stephen. I could tell by Phillip's voice and the look in his eyes that this was not a good call. He kept telling Stephen to calm down and that we were on our way. All Stephen told his dad was that Larry had a wreck and for us to please get there as soon as we could. Stephen knew at that time Larry was gone, but he didn't want to tell us that over the phone.

We grabbed a few things and left the house in a matter of minutes. Phillip got another call from Stephen and he assured him we were on our way and encouraged him to just be calm and pray. I got a call from Sally and I did the same. I happened to think to ask her who else was in the vehicle and that's when we found out about the other boys and Ashley. I told Sally to pray for her brother and Ash, try to be calm, and reminded her that we were on our way. We knew we would have very limited cell service so I made as many phone calls as I could until I lost service. Then I texted, "Don't know details.  Larry has had a bad wreck. Please pray and ask everybody you know to pray." I sent this text to as many people I could think of. I started getting text after text saying prayers were being lifted and a lot saying they were praying for peace for us. I have to admit, I was a little aggravated. I had asked my friends to pray for Larry and they were telling me that they were praying for me to have peace. This would all make since in just a little while. 

It was so quiet on that 45-minute drive. I continued to text and pray and let my mind wonder what the following days would include. I pictured ICU with Larry hooked to machines and possible broken bones. I would put that quickly out of my mind and asked God to help me handle whatever state we found Larry.

When we finally got there, we came upon over a mile of parked cars. It was dark so there was just a steady stream of lights. We drove in the left lane around the cars until we saw where Stephen was parked. It was very quiet. I was expecting sirens and chaos but it was all so calm. I opened my door and jumped out before Phillip came to a complete stop. He was finishing a conversation with Ashley's dad so he remained in the vehicle for just a few seconds longer than me. As I came around the back of the suburban I saw Stephen running towards me. He threw his arms around me, crying he said, "Mama, Larry is gone". We knew Ashley had been airlifted to Memphis, and Dusty was being carried to the hospital so I wasn't sure where "gone" was. I grabbed his face, looked him in the eyes and asked, "What are you telling me?" He then said, "Mama, Larry is dead." At that point, his legs gave out from under him and I had his entire weight in my arms. I held him up and kept him from falling to the ground. I asked who told him that and he said everybody. I thought he was just listening to bystanders talk and told him not to think that until we knew officially. I then looked for Sally and Mary. Phillip had gone over to see if he could get information about Larry. I finally had my children and Ashley's brother in a circle around me all hugging. I asked someone to please pray. I don't remember what was prayed but I do remember that I had a feeling of peace come over me like I had never experienced. As I stood there with my arms around my children I knew whatever happened, we were going to all be alright. 

It had gotten chilly so I sent someone to get a blanket out of our vehicle. Philip hadn't returned with any news so we sat quietly in the dark. It wasn't long until he came and knelt down in front of me and held my hand. 

My husband is a kind, considerate, and compassionate man. I'm not sure how he had composed himself in such a short amount of time. He had just seen our son and had identified his body and now he had the task of telling his family the news. He told me about the others involved in the wreck first. Then with so much tenderness in his eyes and voice, he apologized to me. He said, "I am so sorry, Daphne, but Larry didn't survive the accident." Time stopped.

I heard someone screaming and realized it was me. My mind spun out of control and I wailed. I'm not sure how long that went on. Phillip just held me there. All this time I had been wondering where Larry was and what was happening with him. Suddenly, an overwhelming peace came over me. My screaming was hushed instantly. I realized in that moment that I knew exactly where Larry was. It is an indescribable feeling to realize that one of your precious children is in the presence of his Savior. I sat in awe of this place. God had been here. 

In the days after the accident, so many little details of that night made so much more sense. My friends had prayed I would have peace. Those prayers were answered in the exact moment I needed them to be. Our days were now a bit chaotic, but God had given us such a peaceful afternoon to get our thoughts together. Thing after thing happened that reminded me of what a merciful, gracious, and loving God I have. How did people who don't have a relationship with God handle this kind of situation? It's unimaginable to me. 

Larry accepted Christ as his Savior when he was young. He understood that when Jesus died on the cross, that He died for him. Because of this, I know one day I will see my son again in heaven. That gives me so much comfort.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 states, "I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with him those who sleep in Jesus." What a blessing! Jesus died but he didn't stay that way. He arose from the dead. He conquered death. Not only that, the Bible also promises me that one day He's going to come back, "For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words." (I Thessalonians 4:16-18 NKJV) 

I am indeed comforted by these words and live, looking forward to the day I'll see my son again. 

                                                     

                                                   Daphne McKibben

                                                            4/13/17