Monday, September 24, 2018

Sting For Only Awhile

     A mother should never see her child die. It hurts me to see that because neither should a father. Father's and sons have a strong bond, but mother and child are of one flesh. Children and their father are of the same blood but mother and child of the same substance. When a child dies the mother loses part of herself.
     I have never experienced an attachment such as that but I know it exists. I can see the love of the mothers when they even mention their children. I can see the pride on their faces even when children misbehave. Mothers cover for their children's behaviors because children are a reflection of themselves. My own Mom excused my worst behavior. Dad's don't do that but Mom's do. Their role in life is to nourish, and mothers nurture their children well.
   My brother preceded my own mother in death. It was a terrible day, not for Joe, because he was a Christian, but for Mom who saw part of herself in the casket. She could hardly bear the loss, and I could hardly bear seeing her despair. I hurt for Mom. Mom could not speak because of her stroke but I could see her agony. Thereafter Mom was never the same. It was obvious that part of her was gone. The bright side is that she saw Joe again in a few short months. I firmly believe that this life is just the tip of a spiritual "ice berg" whose foundation in cool waters are so soothing compared to the fires of Hell.
     Because we can't see into eternity does not make it less real. The belief in existence of an afterlife in Heaven is comforting to the living but real for the dead. There is hope! I know that God is good. By grace he forgets all the sins weak people commit as long as they repent and accept Jesus's redemption. Death is just a sting: "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory" (1 Cor 15:55)? It is caused by sin (1 Cor 15:56). Death is not punishment for the righteous. It's a transformation from what one was to what one can be!
    I walked into a hornets' nest one day while mowing and was stung. I screamed because of the intense pain. Within a few minutes the pain was bearable and soon the pain subsided. That's what death is - the cessation of pain. Life on this earth is tribulation because of the Devil. From the moment a child looks to Mom for the breast until a child dies at her bosom, there is tribulation. The milk of life, at first so refreshing, soon turns into gaseous pain. From thereon life is a tribulation. Thank you death from release from life; thank you for an end to tribulation.
     Everyone wants eternal life but they don't want perpetuity in this world. Weak humans could never stand the endless tribulation. My ninety-nine year great uncle stood at his wife's grave agonizing as he said, "I miss her so much. Everyone I ever loved has died before me." I knew what he meant. He had lived too long and suffered too much. As we agonize for those we love, Jesus agonized for us at the Mount of Olives. Funerals are mankind's Mount. They are a time to agonize.
   Jesus agonized for all mankind. He was prepared to die for all mankind so that they would be saved, knowing full-well that most would not be. At our olive tree, we mourn, not for the loved one who died but for ourselves. It is a terrible day for the living but a great day for He loved the one who has died; for God so loved the world that none should perish! 
     Our agony is our loved ones' ecstasy. You see, death is a sting, but on the other side of the pain is relief as the corruptible becomes incorruptible. That deceased flesh at the funeral immediately releases its spirit to in due time to become glorified.
     Never again will those "dead in Christ" suffer because God has prepared for them a place in His Kingdom (John 14:2). Dead in Christ means to have the Ghost of Jesus living in the soul and comforting. It is total dependence on Jesus's shed blood so that sinful people shall never perish. Hence, death for some, is a transfiguration from despair to joy. Secretly, all people dread the sting because everyone truly loves themselves (Ephes 5:29) and desire eternal life. The joy in life is hope in eternity. Eternity is where life can be enjoyed to its fullest; the choice is ours.

He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. (John 12:25)
     God knows when his children tire of the world and are ready for renewal. Death is deliverance from pain for those who profess Christ, and justly so - only the beginning of pain for those who do not. I agonize for my loved ones who have never professed Christ, but rejoice for those who have died in Christ. Death, for those, would be a celebration if it was not for our own loss.
     My friends from years ago just lost their twenty-year-old son unexpectedly. At the funeral, my thoughts were not on their son because he professed that Christ. My agony was for the parents. I hurt for them! As I put myself in their circumstances, I agonized.
     Thoughts of my own loved ones came to mind. This young man had been transformed. Death had released him from  tribulation. My thoughts were on my own son in whom there is no evidence that he is born-again, that Jesus said all must be for eternal life (John 3:7). As they mourned for Brandon, who was physically dead but spiritually alive, I mourned for my son who is physically alive but spiritually dead.
     My pain may have been as intense as theirs but they were comforted in the knowledge that they will soon see their son but I may not see mine.
     Tricia Brown shared her joy and pain. Her eulogy for Brandon was long, so I have permission to abridge it. For her full eulogy, see her Facebook page for Sept 23rd. A portion follows:

You see, things that are hard for many of us came easily for Brandon. He was a gifted athlete. He was a talented artist. He could play music by ear. He never really studied or worked at anything, and he always did just fine, better than fine. He brought home the awards. He made the grades, got the scholarship. He did well.
But, things that you and I take for granted; those were the things that didn’t come easily for him. While he was a wealth of knowledge on so many subjects, communicating his own feelings didn’t come easily for him. He struggled to know how to process his emotions. He was frustrated by things that we would shrug away. Bright lights, loud sounds, rough textures, too much noise, too much stimulation, losing an argument, feelings of anger and being alone, that feeling of “undoneness” that we all sometimes experience—those were things that haunted Brandon. I think he was very afraid of growing up, and he struggled with anxiety and depression for many, many years. To most, he hid it well. He covered it with humor and eccentricity.
Brandon gave his heart to the Lord when he was only four years old. I know that’s young, but Brandon was so intelligent. He knew who Jesus was, and he understood what Jesus had done for him. With the faith of a child, he asked Jesus to forgive him of his sins, gave his life to Him, and followed in believer’s baptism soon after. But just because you are a Christian doesn’t mean that life is easy, and sometimes very intelligent people struggle because they begin to overthink things too much. In Brandon’s final years, he stopped going to church as often as he once had. He thought he had to pretend there that everything was fine when he knew that everything was not. But Brandon never abandoned his faith. Just yesterday, Ian received a message from one of Brandon’s online gaming friends, a person we do not know. Upon learning of Brandon’s death, this friend mentioned Brandon’s staunch beliefs and how he would defend his religion. A post from his work, indicated their knowledge of Brandon’s faith as well. Brandon couldn’t process many things, but he knew the truth, and he would argue it fervently. The Bible tells us that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, and I am confident that Brandon gave his heart to God, and God never let go of Brandon.
At the beginning of this year, I began praying a certain prayer for Brandon. It was from Ezekial 36:26-28. I prayed for Brandon, “Dear God, please give Brandon a new heart and put a new spirit within him. Remove his heart of stone and give him a heart of flesh.”
I am not sure why Brandon had so much trouble finding joy and peace in this world, but I am confident that God answered my prayers. He did not answer them in the way I wanted or how I anticipated, but God knew that Brandon was His child—even before he was my child—and God took Him home. Tuesday night, September 18, was a shock to us, but it was not a shock to God. God knew the number of Brandon’s days before Brandon took his first breath, and while Brandon already had the Holy Spirit living in him, He now has an even newer spirit, a newer heart, and a newer body because he has shed the imperfect human nature, the flawed human body, the unreliable human emotions, and now he is at perfect peace with the Lord. He has true joy, and best of all he is now living with all of those who have gone before him, and he is wrapped in the arms of our Savior.
This is not the story I wanted to write for my life. This is not how I ever imagined my life would be. A momma should never have to bury a baby, no matter how old or young he is. But this I know. I am thankful for the twenty years, nine months, and eight days that God gave me to be Brandon’s momma. I am thankful that I was there when he took his first steps, said his first words, when he learned to read his first book and write his first name, when he learned to snap and when he learned to whistle. And I am so thankful that in his last weeks, I got to see him smile, and dance, and play games with people that he loved. I am thankful that last weekend God saw fit to give me one more dinner with all my boys around the table, one last night with all my chicks in the nest. I am thankful that Brandon was at breakfast with us on Sunday morning and that he came to church with us afterward, that he stood beside me, and that he sang. He didn’t mumble or just mouth the words; he opened up his heart, and he sang. With tears in his eyes, he worshiped our Lord. Those are the memories I will cherish.
In the midst of this, the most difficult day of my life, I am confident of these things. My son loved me, and I loved my son. My God loves me, and I love my God. My God is good, and I will trust in Him. He is my rock and my strength, my fortress and my shield, and He will carry me, He will carry us, through this storm. My heart breaks with the weight of this burden. My body aches as my son has been torn from my arms into the arms of Christ, but even in the midst of sorrow, I know my Redeemer lives. I would not have willingly given Brandon or any of my sons to die for any of you. As much as I love you all, I could never have asked them to die for you or anyone else. When I gave birth to each of my sons, I was overwhelmed with the love I felt and to think that God loved me even more. Today, I am overwhelmed by the grief I am experiencing in the death of my son, but I am even more overwhelmed to know that God loved me and you so much that He gave—He sent--His son to die for us. If you don’t know my Savior’s love, if you don’t understand what I am saying, I beg you not to wait. We are never guaranteed a tomorrow.
Jesus loves you, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. My son, Brandon, to Him belongs. I am so weak, but He is strong.
     What do you "see" from the words of this mother's heart? Despair? Yes. Love? Hope? Yes! The assurance of faith is confidence that Jesus's Purpose is real. He died so that we could live. Just as Tricia and Ian Brown have hope that they will be with the Lord, according to God's Word, they are assured that Brandon is yet alive. One day soon, they all, the brothers as well, will join Jesus in the sky. What a great reunion that will be, not because they will see each other but because they will see Jesus! What a glorious day that will be!

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. God is good--all the time.

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