The days are passing quickly since we buried Dad. There has been much to do with the season, with work, with keeping the house going. Our daughter leaves for Cyprus in less than a week. She is in a bustle preparing for six months abroad.
I have been awake since 4 AM, sitting in the living room soaking in the treasure within the quiet, early morning. I am still enjoying the beautiful lights of the season in our home for a few more days. There is a candle flicking on the piano. The setting is glowing with warmth, and Dad’s death has not tarnished this fleeting moment of peaceful solitude before the rush of the day.
Still, I am sad. With the strong confidence of heaven, with the sweetness of memory, with the constancy of family, with the light of God’s Word, there is the unavoidable reality of embracing the wounds of death.
This must be grieving. I really would like to shake it off, to resist the irrevocable power of loss that has penetrated the surface of my life. There is a part of me that wants to allow the pain to bore into my soul only so deep, to stop short of touching my core. I want to deaden the suffering by controlling the depth of it. But to heal, I must hurt.
I realize now more than ever that as a believer it was not death that I dreaded, it was the separation of death, the tearing of lives. I comprehend more than ever Solomon’s wise words about the seasons of life in Ecclesiastes chapter 3.
1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
This is my season of sadness, profound sadness.