I just finished reading Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff. It is a book that Katie gave to me. She had to read it for a class, and said she thought I might like to read it. I am glad that I did. The book is written by a man who lost his 25 year old son. It expresses his thoughts and feelings as he walks through his grief. Although his grief is from the loss of a son and my grief is from the loss of a husband, the Lord used this book to show me that all grief is the same….yet all grief is different.
All who grieve after the death of a loved one seem to go through the same emotions. Emotions that cannot truly be understood unless you, too, have experienced this huge loss and life-change. As I read Mr. Wolterstorff’s words, I could really identify with his pain and so many of his thoughts. I found myself thinking, “I know exactly what you mean.” Those of us who have lost someone so close to us are kindred spirits…we know how one another feels.
At the same time, grief is different and unique for each of us. No one can possibly understand the one-of-a-kind relationship that Greg and I had even if they, too, have lost their spouse. No one can understand how deeply that loss has affected me and how my life and world have been completely altered. Nor can I possibly understand how others affected by loss..even the loss of a spouse…feel or have had their entire lives altered. Those of us who have lost someone so close to us are kindred spirits…but we can never know how one another feels.
This is one of my favorite passages from the book:
“To believe in Christ’s rising and death’s dying is also to live with the power and the challenge to rise up now from all our dark graves of suffering love. If sympathy for the world’s wounds is not enlarged by our anguish, if love for those around us is not expanded, if gratitude for what is good does not flame up, if insight is not deepened, if commitment to what is important is not strengthened, if aching for a new day is not intensified, if hope is weakened and faith diminished, if from the experience of death comes nothing good, then death has won. Then death, be proud. So, I shall struggle to live the reality of Christ’s rising and death’s dying. In my living, my son’s dying will not be the last word. But as I rise up, I bear the wounds of his death. My rising does not remove them. They mark me.”
I’d love to hear what you’ve been reading lately! Feel free to share!!
Trusting His Plan,
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