where waves grow sweet

Our family experienced a loss yesterday. It was not a physical death, but the death of a relationship and all the beautiful things wrapped up in it. As sad as I was about this unexpected ending and as pained as I was to see the people I most love hurting so deeply, I didn’t feel the burdensome weight of despair. Maybe it’s because I’ve walked the road of loss before – one with a decided end and no apparent way forward – and I know the outcome. In God’s hands, every end proves to be the beginning of something far greater; a birthplace of hope and freedom. So on this good Friday, as we remember the death of Jesus, I wanted to share a blog post I wrote four years ago that feels relevant in light of this.

My mom said she really likes having the audio option, so this is for you mom!

This morning, a facebook memory popped up from 4 years ago: A picture of John, Chase, me and Cole at the lake by Grammie’s house in Jacksonville, Florida. Seeing Cole’s sweet face in the photo made mine light up, but Chase’s dropped with the weight of sadness. So I gathered him onto my lap and held him tight.

A little later, we sat together at the kitchen island reading the story of Good Friday. It is an uncomfortable story full of pain, loss, doubt and confusion. We hurt for what Jesus had to go through, but also for his mother, his friends, the disciples who didn’t yet understand what was to come; the dramatic turn that would make it all worth it. It was tempting to alleviate the discomfort by flipping the page to Easter but instead, we closed the book and paused to feel it. 

We talked more about Cole. Chase looked up at me, a large, sacred tear suspended from his eye – the first, I think, that he has shed in his grief. I cried with him and for him, just like I imagine God did with and for those who also lost Jesus. We paused there too, in that raw connection of loss, letting the discomfort breathe as we held each other.

But then we talked about what the disciples didn’t realize. That Easter was on its way. Resurrection was around the corner. It would not change the fact of Jesus’ death, but it would utterly transform its meaning. This wretched cross to which Jesus was bound would now be an arrow that points to life; a new kind of life that is no longer susceptible to death. It is an invitation for us to hope in what we don’t yet see; to trust that whatever wretched cross we bear will in God’s hands become a blazing symbol of new life.

We have lost Cole. It is hard. But I fully believe that the same power that resurrected Jesus’ body from the grave and ushered Cole into the wholeness of eternal life can and will resurrect our understanding here on this earth. While the fact of Cole’s death won’t change, in God’s hands it will be filled with new life that transforms everything it touches, forging new beginnings where it looked like there was only an end. 

It is okay to pause in our hurt. To fully feel our losses. To weep and to hold each other in our pain. But it’s also important to remember that it’s not the end of the story. Resurrection is around the corner, my friends. We have reason to hope! 

Another post I wrote a while back if you need a little extra hope: https://karaluker.com/2016/09/28/so-much-more/