Prayer - Special Graces - Ambivalence

March 27, 2009

Prayer

Someone asked me today how Daniel’s death has impacted or changed my prayer life.  Here was my response: 

1. I have never had a good regular “quiet time” as many Christians believe is normative, but for much of my adult life, I seem to have ongoing conversations with God throughout most days, on a variety of subjects and situations I find myself in.  Thus it seems like I pray, or talk to and with God almost constantly.  Since Daniel died, I really cannot shut up and God seems to be the only person who can tolerate my verbosity.

2. Lament is defined both as a formal expression of grief or sorrow and as a groan.  King David is famous for his laments throughout many Psalms, including strong expressions of feeling abandoned by God; Job also expresses laments throughout his book in the same vein; and there are other examples in Scripture, including Jesus’ last words on the cross – “Father, why have you forsaken me?”   

It seems to me that lament has become a major aspect of my prayer life – I regularly lament to God my sorrow, anguish, and anger over losing Daniel and even at times, feel as though groans are the only expressions available for how I feel.  I keep telling God what is on my mind and in my heart.

 

3. Jerry Sittser in his book on unanswered prayer has some profound wisdom for me right now.  He argues that prayer is not so much about getting what we want as it is about getting to know God, listening to try and hear what God wants, and having our heart changed as a result.  Prayer should not so much be us trying to shape God as it should be about allowing God to shape us.  

Since God did not answer my prayer and save Daniel, I am left to ponder prayer’s purpose and efficacy.  Perhaps I am also left with the growing realization that my prayers should be more focused on knowing God, listening to hear from God, and hopefully to have my broken heart reshaped by God.

Later that same day, someone asked me a similar, quite personal question about how our grief has impacted our marriage.  I told this person that I felt like a new emotional intimacy was growing between Carol and me through the grief process.  Carol is the only person in this world who has an experience of loss that is the most like mine.  We weep together, share our heartbreak, share similar dreams for Daniel that will never come to pass, share memories, and more.  

Further, she is also the only person who now struggles to balance grief with parenting our other two kids and try to find joy amid the sorrow.

March 19, 2009

Special graces for a father’s struggle

Over my lunch hour today, I wandered into the Catholic Basilica near my downtown office for noontime mass.  As the son of an evangelical Protestant pastor who is now an Episcopalian, I feel oddly almost at home sitting through mass with our not so distant relatives in the faith, the Catholics.

Today was the celebration of the feast of St. Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus.  The priest gave a nice homily, emphasizing the early struggles of Joseph to accept the unplanned pregnancy of Mary (at least from Joseph’s vantage point), still marry her, and then faithfully help raise Jesus into manhood, only to see him die on the cross.  Joseph obviously had many struggles along the way, but as the priest emphasized, Joseph was given “special graces” by God to stay committed to the call on his life and on his family and thus participate in a remarkable way in helping to shape the history of the human race as God’s servant.

The priest then prayed for us all present, that we might receive similar “special graces” to enable us to remain faithful to the call God has for us in the midst of whatever struggles also come our way.

As a father struggling with the untimely and unexpected death of my son, I found a remarkable peace in this message. 

May God grant to me and to my family the special graces we need to remain faithful in spite of our struggles through grief and pain.

March 18, 2009

Ambivalence

The dictionary says ambivalence is the “presence of two opposing or conflicting ideas” – this pretty much sums up what Carol and I are feeling right now about our grief. 

We are unsure of where we “should be” in this process.  Time after time, when we are going about our daily business, we are torn by the ambivalence we are living – deep, deep sorrow on the one hand, and a sense that we are not sure what others think or expect of us on the other.  So much is left unsaid and we are hesitant to always “bring it up” since it is so unclear to us why others seem to ignore what is raging inside our heads and hearts.

I guess the bottom line is, no one really can understand those raging emotions unless they are having or have had the same, or a very similar, experience of grieving.

The most recent experience of this came last night as Carol and I sat through our Young Life committee meeting feeling conflicted over the fact that our annual major fund raising event is occurring the weekend of the first anniversary of Daniel’s death.  Neither of us is comfortable committing to taking on much responsibility for this event, since we each anticipate that we might not even attend it, both because of the emotions we will be struggling with that weekend and because we feel like Ben and Hannah need our full attention during that time as we all work through this anniversary together.

So we muddle along with our broken hearts and ambivalent thoughts, hoping for some clarity some day.