It’s one thing to capture an event with words, to use those words to describe a picture of what happened and how it happened. The relationships embraced within an event and the corresponding feelings though are far more difficult to communicate. It’s sort of like wanting to crawl inside the mind of a young child and explore the world as he sees and feels it. And then, even if I could crawl inside a young child’s mind, how would I find the words to adequately describe the experience from that child’s perspective so still another outsider would fully understand??? I was reflecting on a recent conference I attended with a hundred other moms who, like me, have suffered the loss of a child. We talked, we shared, we listened, we cried, we even laughed. We learned, we were challenged, we were encouraged. Music gave expression to our feelings, candles lit the memories of our children, balloons carried heartfelt notes Heavenward. We remembered, we honored, and we walked a few more steps in our journeys of grief, loving our children as we have always loved, and longing for the hugs only eternity will bring. For a few days, the reality of our children was fresh, vivid, and almost touchable. But something else too was happening in those rooms – the rooms we slept in, the rooms we ate in, the rooms in which we sat and listened, the rooms in which we found a quiet, secluded place with another mom and we spoke the words we usually only pondered. Circles of chairs formed circles of love. A circular table served understanding and acceptance. Brokenness, barrenness, and desperation found ears to listen and hearts that embraced. Togetherness erased barriers of language, economics, and lifestyles. A hug could speak a thousand languages and tears washed away any notion of differences. No two stories were fully alike, and yet we still understood each other, and we still had that pulsing sense of being with others “just like me.”
I was awed by the sense of oneness, and I was blessed immensely as others opened their lives and hearts and let me catch a glimpse of who they really are. They let me “crawl inside” for just a little while, and I felt privileged and honored and wanted desperately to be gentle in my response.
One of our moms had little understanding of English, and spoke even less, being more comfortable with her native language, but she epitomized for me what was happening during our weekend. She lifted her arms in praise as we sang to the God who had brought us all together, even while her tears exposed her heart in the rawness of its fresh tragedy. She warmed to the hugs and the touch of others. And she was encouraged and strengthened. She too was awed by the sense of oneness, a oneness shaped not only by similar need, but a oneness shaped by God. A oneness our God longs for us to have, to participate in, to emulate, to give to others. And all of that happened during our weekend. And maybe I have allowed you to “crawl inside” for just a little bit.......... Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
– Bev
(Related Bible reading: 2 Corinthians 1:3,4)
