The Story We Didn’t Ask For
We all have a story. One we asked for and one we didn’t. Life is never just one or the other, even when it doesn’t make sense.
My dogs and I took off for a long walk. The forest was quiet, except for my mouth-breathing protection brigade. We strolled and watched the squirrels, birds, and butterflies as they went about their business for the day. These moments in God’s beautiful creation always draw my heart back to gratitude. As we swung back into my drive, and my gate opened up to the magnificent view of our land and home, my gaze shifted to a place in the field where the earth is scorched. Not just with dying grass, but it is where a tectonic plate shifted in our life and family, and lava flowed out of grief all over me and those I love.
There were hopes and dreams there. Wedding planning, the pitter-patter of little feet, work and school schedules, home-cooked meals, laughter and tears. Love bloomed there. I remember feeling so grateful our kids were close, and that I was given the gift of helping with my grandson as they found their rhythm in life.
The ache in the beauty of memories is almost as suffocating as the grief itself.
They had a story they envisioned for their life, and so did I.
The slideshow in my mind quickly flipped in slow motion to my frantic beating on their door, the officer creeping through my gate, the slow-motion fall to the ground, and the eerie wailing echoing through the forest.
The story they didn’t ask for. The story I didn’t ask for.
Child loss, years of struggling to figure out who I was anymore, clinging desperately to all those around me, because the fear of losing one more thing could be the thing that sent me over the edge. Like an earthquake, the aftershock of secondary losses rocked my world and still do today at times.
I turned my gaze back across the pasture and saw our cross standing majestically on the hill. Holy Spirit reminded me that
Even in the midst of the story I never wanted
Even when I could not see or feel God
Even when I did not care if I lived or died
Even when relationships disintegrated, and I felt like I was standing alone in the ashes
GOD was there, and GOD is still here.
While my story was a surprise to me, it never was a surprise to God.
In His graciousness, He had gone before us and prepared a place where we could lament, grieve, heal, and where He could realign our story for our life with His. An eternal story He has written for each of us. The hope of Heaven, given to us as a gift, when loss erupts like a volcano in our life.
This past year has opened some places of grief that I thought were mended. It has been heavy. The shifting and sifting has been painful. The aftereffects of secondary loss have laid open fresh wounds. Yet I know that God is there. I have lived it.
Your loss may be the loss of a child, a parent, spouse, marriage, job, estranged children, broken relationships within the family, or a health report that changes everything. Maybe it is a combination of those things.
You call, text, write, and share your heart and your hurt with me. The shattering of your story. A faith that has been shaken. A God who has carried you. I am so very honored to be able to carry that story and walk in the ashes with you. I hear it in your voice; I see it in your tears. Many of you still can’t see where God is in your story. The heaviness of ashes still permeates your life and shrouds your view of the cross.
As I remind myself, I want to remind you that it may not be the story you envisioned for your life, but that doesn’t mean that God is not in it. It doesn’t mean He does not hear your prayers or catch your tears. Even when we don’t understand.
Here are a few gentle reminders and truths you can anchor your heart to.
He is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (Psalm 34:18)
He collects your tears in his bottle. (Psalm 56:8)
He covers you with his feathers. (Psalm 91:4)
You will rise up on wings like eagles. (Isaiah 40:31)
You will run again and not grow weary. (Isaiah 40:31)
He became the perfect sacrifice so you can have hope for the future. Eternal life, where one day we will be reunited with those in Heaven who have gone before us. No more tears, no more pain, no more sorrow.
I want to challenge you to take the next breath and ask the Lord to draw you one more step closer to the cross.
You may not understand the story; I know it is not the story you wrote for your life, but you can trust the God who parted the Red Sea to cover you with his feathers as you rest and wait until you are strong enough to rise on wings like an eagle.
One day you will look back on the story you never wanted and see that the story God is writing for you in the midst of your pain is the greatest love story ever written.
A story birthed out of love and loss.
Much love,
Chrissy