When you look into the face of sorrow, it’s as if you’re staring into a blinding light. Facing this sorrow head on is the most excruciating thing one can do. But as hard as I try, I also cannot look away. This pain is because we loved so deeply, because we are so intertwined. Our souls knew each other when we met, and our souls will be forever intertwined.
There is one path to healing that I have not tried, I have not truly turned to God. I have decided that I will walk this journey alone because I feel like God allowed this suffering. And though I know God did not make Kevin die, in my heart I blame God for giving me and my children this cross. The unfairness of this all, is so huge in my thinking. Why us God? Why now? Why couldn’t my boys be older? Why didn’t I know he was sick? How could I have not seen?
And I know that this is the ultimate test … do I continue to lament the enormity of this cross? Or do I accept this cross even though it’s the most devastating of crosses, and admit to God that I am helpless without him. That I cannot do this on my own. That this grief is too much for me to carry alone, I cannot white knuckle my way through this. I am drowning and feel so alone.
The answer to our great aloneness is God.
I have said before that I feel like Jesus did on the cross … I feel forsaken by God. I want to rage against this new life. I want to change the outcome.
But I can’t keep doing this alone, so I am turning to God. I am admitting how broken and alone I feel and begging for you to bring me and my children comfort. Our hearts are so broken. The one person we could not live without is gone, and we are hurting so so much.
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Mark 14:34). He walked a bit farther from them, sank to His knees, and cried out to His Father, God. “‘Abba, Father,’ He said, ‘everything is possible for You. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what You will’” (14:36).
