on grief

Last week, my brother Joe and his wife Susan lost their longed-for baby boy too soon.  20 weeks and four days. Her water suddenly broke a week earlier, and we prayed and fasted for a miracle.

The boys asked me about it often as we went through that whole week. Then I had to find the words to tell my children that their cousin Gavin had been born despite everything, and then he passed away after an hour.

So tiny, so perfect.

Joe and Susan are heartbroken.

What can you do in the face of such sorrow and grief? What can you say? I cannot make this better.

On Friday will be a graveside memorial service for this tiny baby. Several siblings and my parents are coming in from out-of-state.

Over the years I have done a lot of pondering on prayer. Why bad things still happen despite all our pleadings to God. Is there a trick to prayer to make the outcome different?

I know He listens to our prayers, but I wish I knew why some are answered and some are not.

I know He is in charge, but he's not a puppetmaster. We are here to experience all that mortality offers.

I know there are times when I have seen and felt the comfort He gives, when the timing is different than I have wanted.

Sometimes I try to see the end from the beginning, like, "Ok, this is why this is happening, to learn such-and-such lesson, or to help so-and-so, or whatever." I try also to jump to feeling better, or making it better for someone who is hurting. Stuffing the sad feelings down.

My coworker, who is Orthodox Christian, pointed out that, yes, Christ will not leave us comfortless, but now is not the time for me to be pouring out empty words of comfort. Now is a time to grieve.

And that's ok for now.