Permanence

Why does it seem so much more difficult to accept the passing of an infant or young adult than it does a well-seasoned senior? I have had quite a bit of time to reflect and ponder on this topic lately and I’ve settled on a word to describe my answer to this question: Permanence.

When young widows lose their husbands earlier than expected, they often explain that they expect their husbands to walk through the front door any day, shouting “Honey, I’m home!” On the contrary, I have lost three of my four grandparents, and I must confess that I do not have this same expectation. Instead, I have fond memories of the time I spent with them and enjoy hearing their stories from the family history sessions. I am proud of their life-time accomplishments. But overall, my perception is that they have served their time well in life and now rest in the glory of God; and that brings me comfort. The fact of their passing is well-settled.

Rarely is there such comfort when we lose a contemporary of ours, or someone younger. Instead, we say things like “she went before her time” or “I can’t believe he’s gone.” We have such a difficult time grasping the reality of the loss. The difficulty is amplified with the loss of an infant – a young life barely lived, barely experienced.

I think the toughest part of moving forward is the odd, if not silly, notion that exists in the back of my head that maybe, just maybe, it was all a dream and either it didn’t happen or Jacob is still really out there, or…. Whatever the case may be, the lack of solid permanence with the loss of Jacob stings the worst, causing the cycle of doubt and wonder to continue to roll in my head. To this day, when I drive by the hospital I initially expect him to still be in room three. I know where his window is; what the view looks like; how many steps it takes to walk the hallway; and the names of all the nurses. I am still ready to don a glove to change a diaper or just hold his hand. And I still hope beyond hope that I can see, just one more time, Deb hold him during “Kangaroo Care”. Jacob’s passing lacks the feeling of any permanency associated with the passing of an elder.

Now, I’ll be perfectly clear that my choice of a one-word description (Permanence) is not exactly appropriate given God’s promise to us time and again throughout scripture that death has no permanence over us any longer. One of my favorite examples of Jesus’ power over death is interestingly not the Easter story (although that’s a tough one to top). It’s in Mark 5:35-43:

³⁵ While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?”³⁶ But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” ³⁷ And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James.³⁸ They came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and Jesus saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. ³⁹ And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping.” ⁴⁰ And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. ⁴¹ Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Talitha cumi,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” ⁴² And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. ⁴³ And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat. (My emphasis in bold)

I say that this is one of my favorites because of the example Jesus sets for us (plus I’m a sucker for stories that bring out our human failures front and center). As I tend to wallow in my grief and pity, I have forgotten to “trouble the teacher” on more than one occasion. More simply, I’ve failed to bring my concerns to God in prayer. And my failure has meant that I have not received His calming presence and words reassuring me to simply trust in Him. I love this story more for Jesus’s description of the girl’s condition as “sleeping” and the way he almost entices the people to doubt Him and his power. At the height of their doubt and haughty disregard, He shows his majesty and control over what they knew was death itself. Jesus even had to remind them to give the girl something to eat just in case they thought she was a ghost who needed no food. I myself have failed to understand God’s power in our situation with Jacob, and my doubt has led to more grief. I’m convinced that, as we grow in our trust and faith in Him, our grief will fade and be replaced with joy. I look forward to the day when we too will be “overcome with amazement.”