PSALM 23 - THE VOICE BIBLE

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The Eternal is my shepherd, He cares for me always.

He provides me rest in rich, green fields

beside streams of refreshing water.

He soothes my fears;

He makes me whole again,

steering me off worn, hard paths

to roads where truth and righteousness echo His name.

Even in the unending shadows of death’s darkness,

I am not overcome by fear.

Because You are with me in those dark moments,

near with Your protection and guidance,

I am comforted.

You spread out a table before me,

provisions in the midst of attack from my enemies;

You care for all my needs, anointing my head with soothing, fragrant oil, filling my cup again and again with Your grace.

Certainly Your faithful protection and loving provision will pursue me where I go, always, everywhere.

I will always be with the Eternal in Your house forever.

[In The Voice Bible, they alert you to words that are NOT in the original text by putting them in italics!]

A Mother's Grief

I grieve the loss of our son, Travis, but my grief is significantly different than Debbie's.

This morning, I gained some insight into that difference while reading in Isaiah (in The Voice Bible).

[49:14-16]

Zion:  The Eternal One has abandoned me.  God has walked out the door; my Lord left me alone. He has forgotten all about me.   

Eternal One:  Is it possible for a mother, however disappointed, however hurt, to forget her nursing child?  Can she feel nothing for the baby she carried and birthed?  

Even if she could, I God, will never forget you.  

Look here.  I have made you a part of Me,written you on the palms of My hands.

The Voice Bible added some helpful commentary:

"There are many kinds of love - and not enough words to tell the differences. Hebrew has a word for 'love' that is related to it's word for a woman's womb. English has no such word.  It is too bad, for it is difficult to describe womb-love, the bearing-and-birthing love of a mother, the kind of love that the Lord has for the people of God's promise...God loves them in the same way a mother loves the child growing in her womb.  It can't be said so neatly and completely with one 'love' word, but that is the idea that threads its way through this text."

I walked into the living room yesterday afternoon and noticed that Debbie was curled up in her chair with a look of deep anguish and loneliness.  I immediately knew what the problem was.  In my maleness, I am often befuddled in this situation and unsure of what I should do.  However, experience has taught me to hold her, so I knelt beside her chair and wrapped my arms around her.  She caved into my arms and wailed and sobbed for long moments.  No words...

Earlier than usual (8:30 PM), she excused herself and went to bed.  I followed an hour later and again held her for a long time as she wept.  

It's been a year-and-a-half since Travis passed.  These melt-downs are less frequent now, but still occur.  I don't expect them to ever end completely.

I learned this morning that Debbie's grief is different than mine because she birthed that baby boy back in February of 1976.  She knew him intimately for seven-and-a-half-months before I did!  God used her body to form his body. Travis could have made it into this world without me being present, but he was utterly dependent on her to get him here!  

By the very nature of the process, she was more connected to him than I ever was.  Oh, I loved him and love him still.  I long to talk with him.  He was the pride of my life!  But my grief will NEVER compare to Debbie's!  

Interestingly, Troy and Missy had shared hours and a meal with us during the afternoon.  Just a week ago we spent time with Tracie and Jon, Rylie and Coltin.  We're deeply grateful for the love of our family!  Yet, as much as we love, enjoy and are proud of Troy and Tracie, they can never replace Travis!  

We will miss him for as long as we live!  I will walk into a room of tears again and again...  I will hold my wife and comfort her.  I will never stop talking with my son - as I do now so frequently.  

And you should also know that we are each comforted by the One who loves us in the same way that a mother loves her child!  There is no comfort like His comfort!  

Helping the Grieving

I can only write from one perspective:  mine.  These thoughts may apply to others who are grieving - I'll let you decide.

When you ask me, "How are you doing?", you inadvertently put pressure on me to lie.  It would take me an hour to honestly answer that question.  To keep from burdening you and to protect you from my pain, I will usually answer:  "I'm ok." - but actually I'm not.

So, what are you to do?

I have been very comforted a few times by someone who took my hand and looked me in the eye.  In some cases not a word was said, but our hearts communicated.  It was a genuine expression of sympathy.

Christians tend to rely on the always acceptable, "I'm praying for you."  This is good and I do appreciate the intent - especially if I perceive it is heart-felt and real.  But, may I suggest instead that you actually take one-minute and pray with me?  With just a few quick sentences, lift me to God in a personal way.  For instance:  "Father, I believe my friend, Hal, is hurting from losing Travis.  I can't comfort him as much as I want to so I lift him to You, Father.  Comfort him from the inside through the mighty power of Your Holy Spirit.  In Jesus' Name, Amen."   [Use your judgment with this practice.  I would appreciate it, however, some might be embarrassed by it.  In that case maybe you could offer to pray with them in a more private place or over lunch.]

There's another great idea!  Just do lunch with me and give me a chance to talk.  I need to talk!  It facilitates my healing.  Gently, ask me about my son and what made him so special to me.  Listen as I speak and respond empathically.

I'm a pretty honest guy.  If you ask me how I'm doing today on a scale of 1-10, I'll tell you.  If I respond with a really low number, maybe you could follow with: 
"Where are your thoughts today?"
[If you have the time] "  "Can you help me understand why you're feeling so low today?"
"I'm sorry you're feeling low today, could I just say a quick prayer with you?"

Feel free to share a special memory you may have of my son.  I love hearing stories of how he blessed, helped or impacted others.  Don't be afraid to use his name with me.  I love his name and enjoy hearing it.  And, by the way, if you have time I'd love to tell you more about my son!

I've received lots of very short email messages and, of course, Facebook posts reporting that people are thinking of us and praying for us.  I appreciate every one of these.  We've also received a stack of cards about six inches thick!  When someone chooses a card, writes a note in it, puts a stamp on it and carries it to the post office - it weighs really heavy in my book!  Plus, we can read these repeatedly during our grieving process! 

Just don't be afraid of me!  I'm distressed but not destroyed!  Don't avoid me.  Simply your smile communicates volumes to me.  Words aren't always the best vehicle to express sympathy.  Yes, I'm hurting, but I'm also determined to go forward. 

Way back in 1976, when I was student-pastoring my first church - the Tunnel Hill FMC in English, Indiana - I was called on to do my first funeral.  I overheard a remark as someone greeted the widow.  "Legaitha, our arms are too short and our words are too long!"  Well said!