A friend on Facebook posted a video about the loss of a loved one, and how God can help you through your hurt. What follows below is the memories and thoughts that flowed back into my head as I read his post and watched the video.
The anniversary of losing my Mema (grandma) is coming up, and in this time that should remind me of Christ’s great love for us, I find myself looking at His love in a different way. Not in a way that’s been lessened in any way, but rather strengthened and brought out in a more beautiful way.
We lost my mom and Mema within 5 months of each other. Mom passed December 21, just three days after my birthday. It may be hard to believe, but her death was easier for me to process. It still hurt, but I had peace, knowing all the suffering she felt was at an end. I knew she was going home, and God was going to make her new. I knew that she would soon be serenaded by Elvis, and making bracelets for the whole host of angels. I also knew I still had my Mema, and that I needed to remind her daily that she was still loved and needed. My Mema passed in April, just a few weeks before my uncle’s birthday. Her death was more difficult.
I knew that without my mom to look after, Mema had lost her sense of purpose. She knew she didn’t have to look after me, as much as she did my mom. All the same, I made a point to call her every night, as I left work. I watched her go down hill as she lost that purpose. I knew what was coming every time I called, but I called for her. I broke down nearly daily when I called her and she would ask if I had heard from mom. She’d say she hadn’t heard from mom for a few days and that wasn’t like her. I would have to reveal the news to her, reminding her that mom was up with Pepa and Elvis now. That she passed on back in December. I would hear the heartbreak in her voice as the memory suddenly returned. That broke my heart every day, but every day I gladly accepted that broken heart for her. Her purpose was gone, but mine was starting to come into focus.
I was her daily reminder that mom was in heaven now, and I was her comforting voice. I wasn’t ready for it, but then, when are any of us ready for death, and sorrow. When are any of us truly ready to step into a role like this. That was the first time I really began to understand that God doesn’t call you when your ready, He readies you when you are called. It was not me speaking words of comfort to her. It was not my strength that allowed me to hold back the tears ready to burst through the dam. God was there, and He was showing me and her that His strength was greatest in the midst of our weakness. For months, I dealt with this nearly daily. If you ask me how I got through this the only answer I have is God. I would’ve broken down every time, and likely even lashed out at my Mema for not remembering. That’s how I would’ve reacted…without God there.
The day came when our family had to meet at the hospital and prepare to say goodbye to my Mema. I remember getting in on Friday morning, and meeting my Aunt Charlotte (Mema’s sister), and fully realizing we would have to say goodbye the next day. I talked with her, prayed and generally felt numb. I wasn’t angry, or sad. I was just numb. I walked out to my car to head to Aunt Charlotte’s home, and all that numbness fell away. I completely lost it. I was practically screaming at God, not out of anger, but desperation. I was begging Him not take my Mema too. Not so soon after my mom. “Give us another year with her”, I pleaded.
Another year??? Really??? Another year of watching her continue to deteriorate, just because I was wanted to have a little longer to call and have to remind her that mom was gone. I was selfish. I was selfish because I didn’t think I could make it with both of them gone. Even though I had all this family–and I refer not just to my blood, but all the people in my church who’d been holding me up through all this struggle–I thought if I lost Mema, I would be alone. I didn’t want to be alone.
In the midst of my hysterical screams, a sudden peace poured out over me. In that moment I knew God was saying, “You prayed for her suffering to end. You asked for that, and you said ‘in whatever way You will it.’ Trust me in this. The hurt you feel will pass, and her suffering will not be simply quelled for a while, only to return worse than before. It will cease instantaneously, as she comes into my kingdom.” He reminded me–like a swift boot to the back side, or smack to the head–that I was not alone, and would not be alone. Even if I didn’t have all the fellow Christ followers in my life, who had been there through so much, I had Him. “I get that God, but I will have no purpose.” that’s what I thought. Seriously??? No purpose??? It was almost like He was saying “pull your head out of your backside and open your eyes. I will give you a purpose. You just better be ready for it.”
Over the next few months, and even years, I watched Him work in me. The work came slowly at first, not because He wanted to work slowly, but because He knew I needed Him to work slowly. I needed to take my baby steps, for a time. Those small steps have started to become larger and larger. He had given me a freedom that I didn’t think I would have or need, with losing my mom and Mema. Go with me on this because I’m going to sound a little selfish here. With my mom and Mema, I thought my purpose was to help them as much as I could. I tried to devote more time to them, and that took me away from the purpose He really had for me. When He took them home, he did so to end their suffering. That was the obvious. What I didn’t see immediately was He also took them home to allow me to realize I had a purpose beyond them. It took my Aunt Lydia, in her always loving and profound way, telling me that I should not look at the losses as loss, but as gain. As selfish as it sounds, I had gained a new freedom, to really begin to live my life. I could now turn my attention to whatever God had in store for me. I still mourned their passing, but I could look to tomorrow through new eyes. In revealing this to me, He also took away my guilt, and thoughts that this was just me being selfish again. He reminded me that all my mom and Mema ever really wanted for me was for me to live my life, and find my purpose in Him.
It’s amazing the way He can speak to you in what you perceive to be a moment of pure darkness and sorrow, and He can take away all that pain, heartache and hopelessness. He truly is out to help you with the hurt. In the midst of such grief, it’s so easy to let the liar’s voice tell you that God took your loved one because He’s not really a loving God. But check this out. If you ask it, He will cut out the liar’s tongue and shut his venomous mouth. He’s already defeated the liar, and all the little things the liar tries to do to derail us, are nothing more than minor annoyances to God.
In the midst of your grief, think on this; we all have an expiration date, because our bodies are not our own. They are on loan from God, and that loan has already been paid for you. It was paid with the Blood of the Son He dearly loved. He’s waiting for the day that we come home to Him, so He can give us the flawless body awaiting us when we reach eternity with him. Death is not the end. Not if we believe and have a relationship with God. Even if that relationship is tumultuous at times, His grace never ends. He is always there to welcome us back in with arms wide open. So when you think about the loss of loved ones, don’t think of it as loss. Think of it as gain. Because you have gained one more pair of eyes to watch over you. One more face to look upon with a joy that cannot be described, on the day you see them again in His house.
The Random Musings of a Nerdy Christ Follower 
Rusty, thank you so much for sharing these inner most thoughts with those of us who love you so much. May God continue to bless and watch over you.
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This is beautiful, Rusty. Your mom and mema were both very special ladies that I truly enjoyed knowing.
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Wow, Ruty.
I am so blessed and honored to be on this journey with you.
What you shared in the story about your mom and Mema is so poignant and so very true. You’ve come a looooong way, my friend. And I’m so proud of the Christian leader you have become. I believe God’s not done with you yet! He has plenty of other great things in store for you.
Keep plowing ahead, sir. You are an inspiration.
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