Today's post falls between two very important dates. I have struggled with these days for 18 years now. It’s crazy for me to think that these days have brought melancholy for more years than they brought me joy. But, that is the reality of getting older after a fixed event in your past. The time before it never changes, while the time after it only increases. See the dates are my father’s birthday, August 31st, and the day he died, September 6th. It seems almost cruel that they should be so close together, but, perhaps it’s a reminder to me that even though he is gone now, there was a day when he was born and entered this world and changed it forever.
Bye, Bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing, “This'll be the day that I die.”
I have probably played that song over 1,000 times in my life. That in itself is almost 9,000 minutes of music. That’s 150 hours or 6.25 days. That’s almost a whole week of my life that my ears have heard this song. And still, 24 years after the first time I heard it, I can remember everything about that moment. I was wearing a blue floral dress that was a hand-me-down from my sister. It had a white collar on it. I was wearing white sandals, well holding them in my hand. The party was over. We had celebrated Daddy’s 40th birthday party at the sportsman’s club in town. It smelled hot and like trees, and river, and wooden floors. I had no idea until the party that this song even existed. But, it had been his favorite. Someone gave him the cassette for his birthday and after everyone was gone, and we were cleaning up, they played it. I fell in love. I had it memorized within a week I’m sure. When my daughter was born and she would be crying at night or I would have fed her and she was finally asleep, I would sing her the end of the song.
I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.
And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But, not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admired most,
The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.
Granted it’s not a great lullaby, but it was slow and it made me think of him. In a way, it made him a part of her life.
Grief is weird. It is constantly changing. After 18 years I sometimes think that I should have it together. I should know how to handle these days. And I have learned somewhat how to approach them in my own way to celebrate who he was, and not focus on the hurt that he is no longer here. But, as I get older I am struck with different realizations about death and grief and God.
Death was never the plan. That’s why it hurts so much. We were never meant to experience that kind of loss and separation. Genesis 2:23 tells us that we were supposed to be able to reach out our hands and eat from the tree of life and live forever. But, we missed the mark. We ate from the wrong tree and therefore we must all face death. However, Paul reassures us in 1 Thessalonians 3: 13 that we do not grieve as the world does, because they have no hope. We have hope. If those we have lost were in Christ when we died, then we will see them again.
But, what about when that hope doesn’t seem to heal the hurt? Well, that’s grief. That’s real, and it honestly never goes away. It simply changes. I will always miss my Daddy. I miss his laughter and jokes. I miss his artistry. I miss his strength. I miss his way with words. I miss the way he had these white lines out from his eyes because when he was in the sun he squinted and those spaces never got tan. I miss his advice. When I was in middle school he shared a verse with me on a particularly rough day. I’d gotten a test back that was a failing grade. I wasn’t used to failing and I was really upset. He handed me a new testament he kept in the car, it was bookmarked to John 14 and verse 1 was in brackets.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me.”
The chapter goes on to explain that Jesus is going away to prepare a place for us with the father so that we can share in the glory of Heaven with him when we die. At that time my father couldn't have anticipated that I would need these words to comfort me from losing him, but God did. Jesus also explains that he is the only way to get to the Father. And the only way to make that possible is that he will have to leave them. But, then starting in verse 15 he says basically, don’t be upset because I’m going to ask the Father to send you a counselor, the Holy Spirit, who will be with you always. He assures us that he will not leave us as orphans. If you have lost someone in your life, you know that feeling of being an orphan. You feel lost like you have no place in this world, and as if no one understands you. But, God does. He understands that hurt and loss so much that he sent the Holy Spirit to comfort us when nothing else can or will. Then he says in verse 27 the take-home message.
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world give. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
And, what about God? What I have I learned about God in my grief? Mainly this: God wants to know how I truly feel so that he can comfort me. I tried for a while to put on a good face when I would talk to people or pray. I knew what praying should sound like, and I’ve always been good and adapting my words to the situation. So I prayed things like this, “God thank you for the time we had together. Thank you for your peace. Thank you for your love. I pray that you would ease our hurting.”
When what I was really thinking was this, “I am angry. I should have had so much more time with him. Why would you take him away? Why has my father, who was such a good man, stolen from me? Why us?”
I have come to learn, particularly through the Psalms that God wants me to tell him what’s on my heart and mind even if it’s not pretty because then He can work on my heart. If I keep my face, and heart, hidden from him then He can’t help me with the real issues. It’s ok to cry out like David in Psalm 10 “Why, O LORD, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” Because, by the end of the Psalm, David is proclaiming that the Lord does hear the desires of the afflicted and He encourages them and listens to their cry. I’ve also learned that my God wants to give me peace. It’s a word that’s found 429 times in the KJV of the Bible. I’d say it’s important to him. But, peace doesn’t mean there is no storm blowing in our direction, it simply means that we are content to allow God to protect us from it however he sees fit.
I never got an answer to my question of why us. I may never get an answer to it. Most days I’m ok with that. Honestly, though, grief doesn’t go away. Death is hard. The impacts of that loss are always showing up in different ways. The manifestation of that loss in my life is always changing. But, God is never changing, never-ending, always constant, always present, and always loving. If you are grieving, then this is my prayer for us today:
“And provide for those who grieve in Zion –
to bestow on them a crown of
beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of
righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.”
Isaiah 61:3
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