The Train is Coming - Christmas Grief Relief - Week 1 Day 3

Today’s Treasure

Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

Psalm 62:1-2

Transcript

The Train is Coming

Sharon W. Betters

Today’s Treasure

Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

Psalm 62:1-2

No matter how much we plan and prepare for the holidays, I know we will all agree, especially those like me whose loss was thirty years ago, the train of grief can and will run us down when we least expect it. This blog post, written nineteen years ago, captures the power of the train but also the grace God gives - not to outrun it but to lean into the pain and discover priceless treasures in the darkness. 

The Train is Coming

Adapted from Treasures of Encouragement Blog Post, July 6, 2011

Nineteen years ago this morning (July 5, 2011) , I dropped off our sons at their new job.  I especially remember how proud sixteen-year-old Mark seemed, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tie.  His previous work experience was in construction and this new job meant working inside in air conditioning.  It was a normal day, like any other day, except it wasn't.  And the only One Who knew how upside down it would end was our God.  

That year July 4 was on a Sunday.  We celebrated Communion during the worship service.  Our sixteen-year-old son, Mark, sat on one side of me and seventeen-year-old Daniel sat on the other.  I rubbed their backs as they bowed to pray before taking the elements.

What was in their minds?  Was this a special moment with the Lord or were they thinking about our cookout plans and getting together with friends for fireworks later? 

At a recent outdoor concert followed by a fireworks display, Dan told me the night reminded him of July 4, 1993, one of his last nights with his brother. His comment took me back to seeing our kids, their cousins, and friends in our driveway, deciding who would ride with whom and where they would meet up. 

We had just finished a 4th of July barbeque that included both sides of our family, lots of cousins and grandparents and aunts and uncles. Within minutes the loud laughter and story-telling subsided as different family groups left to watch fireworks in their own neighborhoods.  Chuck and I declined all their invitations to join them, saying we would watch the neighbor’s mini-displays from a blanket in our own backyard. 

While the neighbors illegally set off their fireworks, we reminisced about the "laughter in the walls" of our home and wondered what the next year would bring.  Deep contentment and joy soaked our souls. No one, no one could have known that within 48 hours, our lives would be forever changed.  Our son, Mark, and his friend, Kelly, would die in a car accident ten minutes after they left our home. 

The train of grief is coming. The vibration caused by its thundering speed and the faint, lonely whistle in the distance warns me.  Yes, it is coming.  I know it is useless to try to outrun it.  I have learned over the past 19 years that the train can also bring strange comfort and treasures, especially around July 6. Within the past week, a special friend who didn't know Mark told me she started praying more for us at the beginning of every July. During a recent worship service, she thought about Mark and wondered what part our drummer son might have had in the worship band. Another young friend who attended school with Mark, starting in preschool, shared a funny story I had never heard.  Mark's cousins shared a memory that made me laugh and they reassured me that they think of Mark a lot. The coming train gives them the courage to mention his name.

Every time we celebrate Communion, I think about July 4, 1993, and I wonder again what Mark was thinking about the last Sunday we worshipped together. The approaching train of grief drives me to search for meaning and to watch for treasures of encouragement designed to help me withstand the power of the anticipated collision.

Today I remember how Jesus thanked God for the bread and wine at the last meal He would share with His disciples, knowing a cruel death awaited Him within hours of that meal.  Picture the peace He displayed as He thanked God for the provision of sustenance, His disciples not realizing the thanks was an act of surrender to God's purposes for Him.  I picture myself at the table and Jesus looking into my eyes and firmly exhorting me: Do this in remembrance of me. He knows my circumstances, my anguish, my longing for what was. Yet my big brother reminds me that thanking God for the blessings He gives us, no matter the darkness, and perhaps especially in the middle of the darkness, helps equip me for whatever may be coming. Jesus thanked God for blessings in the middle of anguish and by thanking God, He surrendered to God's sovereign love.

On July 6, 1993, Grief pushed its way into my soul but unbeknownst to me, joy snuck in, too. And slowly, slowly, Joy inched her way to the front of the line, pushing Grief back into a corner. Yet Grief is always with me, often hidden and forgotten until a song, a memory, or a story releases the pent-up longing for Mark. But, friends, Grief can become a friend because it brings opportunities to experience treasures in the darkness we would never see were it not for sadness. Grief keeps us connected to our loved one even thirty years later and I am grateful for those moments when I hear the train’s whistle in the distance. The sound sends me running to the Lord where He has revealed the secret for surviving the coming collision. He is my Refuge, Rest, Rescue, and Rock. Grief draws me into His heart and keeps me connected to our son.

The train is coming. But the train will not destroy me for I am learning to thank God for His provisions, His blessings and to surrender to His purposes. The train is coming. But I am not afraid.

LIFE-GIVING ENCOURAGEMENT

For the Grieving: The train of grief carries ferocious sorrow but in the middle of the darkness, look for the light of Jesus. Ask Him to open your heart and eyes to treasures you will only discover in the darkness. Lean into the pain and run to Jesus, your Refuge, Rest, Rescue, and Rock. You may be getting ready to go to a Christmas event and in those moments grief runs you down. Ask the Lord if going to the event holds gifts of encouragement for you or if you need to stay home and allow your grief to overwhelm you. Whatever decision you make, He will be with you, just as He promised.

Christmas Grief Relief Resource: Treasures in Darkness, A Grieving Mother Shares Her Heart by Sharon W. Betters

Christine Chappell’s Help &Hope Podcast: Depression in Motherhood

Christine Chappell’s book Midnight Mercies: LINK

For the Grieving Friend: Give up the goal of fixing your friend. Our first Christmas without Mark, at the last minute I skipped out of attending and participating in a women’s Christmas event. I could not bear the idea of being with a group of happy, joyful people. I needed to weep. A dear friend learned of my absence and hurried over to our home to sit with me. She exchanged the special event for moments of grieving with her broken friend. One caution, this was a close friend. As much as you may want to be the one by her side, make decisions about how to help your friend based on the level of your friendship.  Your task might be to pray as another friend rushes to her side.

PRAYER

Father, the train is coming, but instead of running from the grief, show us how to lean into the pain and reveal Your presence through treasures in the darkness.