Weight

Dark days come and go.  There is no set rhythm, as I've said before. I do think its tied to dates, anniversary dates.  Yesterday marked four months since Phoebe died.  Certainly the days leading to the ninth of every month will at least make me pause ...make my chest heave with sorrow.  When that pain rushes in and overwhelms, the blinders go up, I can't see any way through.  It feels as if life will always be horrifically painful.  It is a pain like no other ....searing, seething, moving through your veins, cells ...every part of a person.  As much as this makes me question God, I also believe He allows the pain to come in waves.  The magnitude of the painful loss in its entirety would kill me ...I am sure of that.  There is simply no way a human could sustain the weight of all this pain ..at once. 
Four months.  Four months without her here.  Don't even try to imagine what that would be like.  Final.  It is all so very final ...in this life anyway.  And there are new patterns that emerge, begin to take shape.  Our days move on, they are busy, filled with activity, laughter, fighting, games, cooking, singing ...part of family life.  Still, someone is missing.  Phoebe brought an energy, an excitement and vitality to the day.  So much of who we were was determined and led by her, and her ways.  Now we are left to claim our own.  She would want us to do that ...make our own stake, homesteaders in our own family.
"C'mon guys,"  I can hear her say "It's not all up to me ..get your own lives, what are you gonna do when I'm gone?"  We owe that to her, tilling new soil, planting new ways ...beginning.  I just hope she knew how much a part of this family she was ...is.
But the weight of it all pulls us down, the remembering, the stuckness, laboring over the why, why, why.  The questions, the guilt, the vulnerability leave us uncertain which direction we're called to .  How do we procede?  And where are we going?
Faith and trust, lead us onward.  I just listen to the words of songs that assure me He is there.  God knows our pain, our sorrow, our uncertainty.  So I just try to hand it all over to Him, let Him do the work that needs to be done on this sorry soul.  I just keep praying, trusting, reaching for Him.  So often He seems absent, unreachable ...but I look back, and am reminded of intense moments of God's presence, His assurance, His promise ...for me, this mother missing her girl. 
I know He will place the weight on me again ...as He forms me for eternity.  I just hope I am listening to Him and following Him as He wants me to.  It reminds me of a story I've always loved.

There was a man who did not know what to do with His life.  "God" he asks "What am I to do with my life?  I want to follow you, do your will, tell me what to do."  God shows the man a huge boulder.  "Move this!"  The man questions "You want me to move this boulder?"  "Move this!" God repeats.  The man trusting, but not knowing, begins to push against the boulder.  For years he toils and struggles, trusting God, certain that his efforts will someday accomplish what God has commanded.  Finally, he is weary, cannot stand it any longer.  "God, I cannot do this anymore.  I have toiled for years, pushed, pulled, shoved again and again.  This boulder has not moved one bit.  Why would you command me to do something I couldn't possibly accomplish.  I only wanted to do Your will.  But, I could not, can not."  Weeping, he sits down.  "Look"  God says gently "Look ...at your arms, your legs, your chest.  Do you not see the strength of your body?  How fine tuned you are!  The details of each muscle in your arms show their perfection and power.  Your legs, every inch, solid, steady, strong."  The man is confused.  "But, I didn't move the boulder, and that was Your will ...and I couldn't do it."  "No, my will was not that you would move the boulder, but that You would follow my commands so I could form you in the best way.  My will was that you would persevere, that you would grow strong and capable.  You have followed My will ...and now you are formed for Me."  The man was stunned.  He had only thought of the boulder ...never thinking that it was him that God wanted to change ..to move.
How often I think I understand His will, and yet have absolutely no idea what it really is?  I have no idea what He wants from me, from my family now.  But I am certain, that He allowed us to lose Phoebe so that we may be formed more perfectly for Him ...for all time.  I am also certain that Phoebe has a role in this now, that she sees, she believes and she knows that we are being formed.  Her terrible, hurtful decision to die by suicide will never be made right.  It isn't supposed to be.  But her family can be made right if we continue to trust that God is using this horror, this nightmare to bring all of us closer to Him ...and by doing that, accepting that ...we come closer to Phoebe. 
I think back to my journey to Bethlehem.  It was a hard, but rewarding effort.  God blessed me beyond anything I could have imagined.  That was a gift that lives on in my heart.  And I know Phoebe lives with the Nativity near ...so real.  I also know, as Lent approaches, I'll ready myself for the steps towards Calvary.  No doubt, that too will be a very difficult journey.  Yet, I knew I needed to go to Bethlehem, kneel at the manger, leave my beloved Phoebe there with the Christ Child ...so I could later take my place at the foot of the cross, beneath my Savior.  This following is hard, it takes so much out of me, and I would rather stay put.  I know it is what He wants ...because it is best for me.  I pray I never lose sight of Him.

Tonight I will pray the first Sorrowful Mystery, the Agony in the Garden,  for all of your intentions.

Agony in the Garden: Matthew 26:36-39
Then Jesus came with them into a country place which is called Gethsemani; and he said to his disciples: Sit you here, till I go yonder and pray. And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to grow sorrowful and to be sad. Then he saith to them: My soul is sorrowful even unto death: stay you here, and watch with me. And going a little further, he fell upon his face, praying, and saying: My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me. Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.

It is for the love of His Father above all else that Jesus willed to undergo His Passion.

Behold Jesus Christ in His agony. For three long hours weariness, grief, fear and anguish sweep in upon His soul like a torrent; the pressure of this interior agony is so immense that blood bursts forth from His sacred veins. What an abyss of suffering is reached in this agony! And what does Jesus say to His Father? "Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me." Can it be that Jesus no longer accepts the Will of His Father? Oh! certainly He does. But this prayer is the cry of the sensitive emotions of poor human nature, crushed by ignominy and suffering. Now is Jesus truly a "Man of Sorrows." Our Savior feels the terrible weight of His agony bearing down upon His shoulders. He wants us to realize this; that is why He utters such a prayer.

But listen to what He immediately adds: "Nevertheless, Father, not My will but Thine be done." Here is the triumph of love. Because He loves His Father, He places the Will of His Father above everything else and accepts every possible suffering in order to redeem us. 


Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace. Amen.