Death is a difficult subject: it’s a challenging, inevitable concept to grasp and is uncomfortable for the majority of people I personally know. Even those with faith find death to be troubling and are unsure how to converse when death affects the people close to them. When you think deeply about it, it is fascinating that humankind has encountered death since the beginning of time, and we are all going to experience this same fate. And despite that, it appears to be avoided in society. I am blessed to have the truth of the Bible to turn to for understanding.
And with that being said, no matter the depth of your faith, what I am going to open up and share may sound strange for those that have not been in my shoes.
For background, I only held my second daughter in my arms after she was gone from this life. It doesn’t phase me that I only kissed her when she was cold. I only bathed and swaddled her as a lifeless body. This may come off as dark and not any way that you should imagine your child. Perhaps I am too comfortable with the dying process, for death no longer seems to make me feel uneasy. There is an immeasurable amount of peace that death brings me. My daughter has experienced it and in a way, I feel I have experienced it; for a part of me lives in her and her in me.
When I visit the cemetery, I have strong thoughts about wanting to fall to the ground and desperately dig with my bare hands to get back to her. I have had dreams of a similar scenario. The thought of seeing her in whatever condition she may be does not scare me for this is how I have known her.
My mind has dwelt about this desire and it seems to be unsettling to those I have shared with. I imagine this may be unsettling to you. But the Lord must be present in these fierce recurring thoughts. What is He telling me? I do not believe I am being asked to claw at the Earth, and I recognize that it is quite extreme. But God descended from heaven all the way into death, so He must be here as well.
A life-long friend shared with me how she would not dwell on what could have been, but rather focus on what is. Often I dwell on what could have been with my family if my sweet baby was alive. With that, I am not met with peace. There is hurt, anger and disappointment. But when I focus on what is, I find peace, hope, and glory to God. Glory that God chose me worthy to have carried and brought a baby into this world. The baby was spared from suffering on earth. My offspring is worthy to be in Heaven through His mercy. This is the ultimate goal that I have for all of my children. I can focus on her belonging to God, and that she will partake in the resurrection.
In some way, my tenacious need to rescue my daughter at the cemetery is comparable to what the Lord wants for all of us. He wants to dig us out from death and walk in the newness of life (Romans 6:4). He wants to bring us back to Him. God will bring her to life from the grave. With this deepened understanding of my own confusing, unsettling thoughts, I found reassurance that He loves her more than I do. My daughter was so worthy, and I will praise God that she is where we all hope to be.
