As I watched my mother take her final breaths, I was heartbroken and shattered. Eventually, after sitting with the harsh reality and loss, I became angry. My mother had unwavering faith. She was compassionate and caring and led people to church and to Him. She built her life upon God and His promises and taught my sister and me to do the same.
It didn’t make sense that she would be called to God and heaven so young, so early. She was only 57.
The longer I lived with that truth, the emptier and angrier I became. I let grief steal my hope, and I let darkness challenge my faith. I asked God “why” constantly, every single day. Instead of praying, I found myself calling out to Him in complete bitterness, feeling betrayed and alone. It made me wonder if my mom had wasted her life on promises that she’d never see come to fruition and hope that was impossible.
I’m not proud, but for a long time, that is where I stayed– broken, lacking faith, and unable to trust things that could not be seen, nor proven. Until one day I stumbled upon a sermon of the Beatitudes and Matthew 5:4, “Blessed Are Those Who Mourn, for They Will be Comforted.”
I was guarded and not open to hearing about God’s comfort before the preacher had even spoken a word. From where I stood there was no comfort– no solace, no relief. I kept listening and with each word, with each sentence of encouragement, my heart softened a bit. I started listening a bit more open and with flickers of belief and hope in my soul.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” – Jesus’s promises made during his Sermon on the Mount. For me, this simple phrase immediately brought frustration and disbelief, for I had yet to feel comforted through my mother’s death. In fact, not only had I felt no comfort, but I felt nothing but shameful emotions and harsh thoughts. Grief changed me. I was different than before in less than desirable ways.
Minutes into the sermon the preacher said something that immediately challenged my thinking. He said, “Don’t be angry at God. Grief and loss were never His plan. However, His diligent promise to be there– to comfort, to guide, to walk besides, among so many other promises, that has always been the plan and promise.”
This church service, years into grieving the loss of my mother, gave me a new sense of hope and understanding. It encouraged me to read His word and find His promises— to find His truth. So, I did. I read, and I read, and I read. I consumed myself in scripture. I realized that sometimes when we face immense struggles or heartbreaking losses, we glance over God’s word without complete comprehension or perspective. I learned that some of the verses that shattered my heart and my trust were ones I’d come back to and find hope, and through this search, other scriptures would appear as if God and Jesus sent them to me themselves.
God is right there in our grief. We are not alone. There is comfort in that.
Photo Credit: © Getty Images/fizkes
While this scripture promises comfort. It doesn’t promise immediate relief or quick healing, though that is what our souls crave. Instead, this comfort is provided on the other side of life. It’s provided in heaven.
Grief has an expiration date, though so many online quotes and poems will tell you otherwise. It’s simply not on this side of things. Grief’s expiration date is the date we enter our own eternity in heaven. Complete comfort will come. Complete solace and relief will come, just as He promises.
Photo Credit: ©Getty Images/Marjan Apostolovic
Pain and suffering will end. Better days will come. All wrongs will be made right and endless comfort will be provided. It simply requires trust and faith. My eyes might still be filled with tears and my heart still filled with pain, but my mother has been cleansed of the disease that killed her. She is free from any pain or suffering that she endured here on earth. Though I cannot see this act of pure and selfless love, it is happening. My mother is free– truly free.
Knowing that truth brings comfort. Knowing that reality for her lessens my own pain and my own emptiness. She is worthy of all that greatness and freedom. She believed in it wholeheartedly. This scripture is a promise of restoration, maybe not specifically for us, but for the beautiful souls we’ve lost.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/Filmstax
Life is full of suffering. It is full of loss, struggles, and challenges. It’s full of plans that are beyond our power and understanding that will not always happen on this side of things. Christianity does not give us a free pass from suffering, nor does it promise an easy life. It promises an infinite future.
Holding that perspective reignited my faith and restored my hope.
I no longer ask God “why”. I no longer challenge His plans or His promises.
I still grieve the loss of my mother. I still wish things were different and that she was here right beside me, just as we always planned she’d be. I still have momentary glimpses of anger and frustration and complete sorrow, but more than anything, I now live with faith again. I live with my mother’s reminiscence and her legacy. And because of those things, I live with the bold faith she built our lives around, and that is where I find comfort.
God is truly with the grieving. He doesn’t steal our loved ones; he moves them to heaven– to their eternity. There is no greater comfort than that.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/Simon Lehmann