To Those Who Grieve
The following was written by my sister and published at her request. Her husband died of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), also known as Lou Gehrig's disease.
I’m dead, but I haven’t died yet. Yes, it seems illogical and nonsensical, but it is so. Let me explain.
I am dead from the pain caused by my husband’s death less than two years ago. We thought we were ready for the end of a terminal illness but we were not. When he died, so did our plans, hopes and dreams, anniversaries, and birthdays. Our time as a couple seeing our children, their spouses, and our grandchildren grow came to an end. Speaking to him about everyone’s joys and hardships was no longer possible. Sharing a meal or a precious kiss, laughing and crying together — what we became as one, all came to an end. I felt a horrible pain. I just wanted to scream and sob. I died with him.
But I have also come to understand that pain is finite, as are all things in this world. Everything we know has a beginning and an end. While there cannot be life without death, it is but a pause for life until it begins anew. My husband’s life now is painless, without frustrating impediments or physical limitations. He is now enjoying a new life, and that has given me the strength and wisdom to realize that earthly pain also dies. Truly, there is a time to cry and also a time to laugh, but I had to allow time to take its course, to take me into the depth of sorrow but also to heal and allow me to laugh again, to continue living in this world.
If I haven’t died, what does God want from me?
As I was going through this existential crisis, I asked God to help me understand with clarity what plans He had for my new phase of life. I hoped for an answer as explicit as the instructions Noah received to build the Arc or that David received to build the Temple. Instead I received a simple whisper, but clear nonetheless, to do God’s will wherever I am and however He chooses. It was that simple. To the point.
“Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” Romans 12:2 (NABRE)
To do God’s will, I had to allow Him to transform me. It was a deliberate and conscious choice. I had to be aware of and open to God’s metanoia, His ability to turn our lives around through radical change, like the caterpillar that ceases to be a “worm” to become a butterfly, or ants that transform from single insects to tireless workers, or eagles who leave the safety and comfort of a nest to majestically soar through an endless sky. I too am going through this metamorphosis. I have embraced His constant renewal by allowing parts of me to die time and time again so a new life emerges within. I acknowledged my ignorance and impatience so He could sow seeds that are growing and deepening my understanding of His infinite power and love. In doing so, I allowed myself to get closer to Him. He is now my sweet Husband on this earth, my friend, whom I love and serve with all my heart and who is always by my side.
Life is now like a powerful rollercoaster. I am fully awake to every life-changing dip, turn, loop, or drop. It is a life lived with the intensity of its terrible fears and indescribable joys, knowing that God is truly the One who bears the load and who has always guided the journey. The tears are inevitable, but now, so is the laughter. Thanks be to God!