Writing Is Easy . . . Sharing Is Not

In my last blog post, I wondered if my writing was making any kind of impact.  If I still had something to say, or if your curiosity had been sated.  Maybe the dark details of John's life and death were explained and what I had to say after a year was irrelevant or simply redundant.  I wondered if putting my heart out there and struggling through tears to pen my words was still worth it.  Still impactful. I think everyone who writes struggles with the thought that they don't have anything important to say or their words aren't meaningful or helpful.  

As a bereaved parent, it can be a Catch 22 to share our truth.  I can explain how certain things make us feel to help a fellow bereaved parent, and yet, at the same time, alienate someone who feels they might have said something dumb or inappropriate. (Which I do all the time, don't sweat it).  So, while it had been very therapeutic for me to write, I just wasn't sure, that week in particular, if it was necessarily always a good thing.  Maybe my openness was too much, my sadness sharing to hard, my thoughts unrelatable.  Being vulnerable - is hard.  And then, some of you surprised me.  

I had asked myself a question - what's my number?  Would I put myself out there if it helped 50 people? 10 people? Is it worth it if it helps one person?  The answer is yes.  Even if it's hard, if it helps one person, I decided it was worth it.  I was feeling down - the holidays were upon us, and the sadness was oh so heavy.  However, this week I was surprised and amazed at how some of you were touched by the writing, and I will admit, it gave me some renewed hope that it isn't all in vain.  It surprises me sometimes who reads the blog.  I wish everyone who does who would hit the like button or leave a comment, just so I would know that there are actual people on the other end and not a "reach" or a robot, or a scammer in Turkey taking a peek.  I think it would be nice to know why you clicked on it, if you've been following our story, where you came from, what you're dealing with, who you are.

I understand that loss and substance abuse aren't topics that a lot of folks want to "like" or even admit they are dealing with - so I understand the unwillingness to be seen, I'm just letting you into my thoughts here.  My grief friends can relate and they may find some comfort in the words.  But as it turns out, some of you this last week indicated that reading my words regarding loss have helped you with your own losses.  

One of you sent me a note and told me that you have learned things you did not know about substance abuse and grieving, and reading my words has helped you to understand.   Another precious soul, with tears in her eyes,  gave condolences and shared with me that her son also struggles with drug abuse and she said she was so thankful that I have chosen to share my story.  I can't tell you what it means to me to hear that the words are helping you in some way. Because while writing appears to be easy for me, sharing my son's death by an accidental drug overdose is not.  

I was also told this week that my writing has helped someone deal with the loss of a parent, and a few of you have told me that you have come to know my son, John, by the sharing of photos and the things he said that I put out on social media.   That might be my favorite.  That while John is no longer among us, you are feeling like you've gotten to know him.  You've seen his humor, admired his smile, and one of you even said he was a "hunk", but felt it would be an inappropriate comment given your age!  😂 I can't tell you what it means to this mama to hear that my loss is helping you with your own struggle or that my sharing is keeping John's memory alive.  I love it when I get a random message about how John touched your life.  I've gotten a lot of those "statements" this week as we prepare for the court hearing - the sentencing and the victim impact statements.  I've shed way too many tears to count as I've read some of them.  Next time maybe I'll share a few stories . . .

You see, we all want to live perfectly lovely lives on this planet.  And as Christians, we can sometimes feel entitled to that perfection.  It's true.  We feel like we should be immune to the struggles of the world because Jesus died for us and all that pain has already been purchased by the perfect savior. In fact, today we discussed this very topic in Bible Study.  But, the Bible tells us that in this world we will have trouble. {John 16:33} That the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous alike. This world is broken, not perfect, and life is hard.  Jesus talked about the Tower of Siloam falling on 18 unsuspecting folks walking past it one day in Jerusalem. {Luke 13:4}  Did that happen because they were eviler than the others walking past?  No.  Stuff happens, to everyone. No one is immune from suffering.  In fact, it's pretty much a guarantee that you won't leave this Earth unscathed in some manner.  But, as Lisa Harper shared about all this in our Job study, she also said that our pain can teach us how to comfort others and that it can be a conduit for God's glory in some way, shape or form.  

Now please don't confuse that with telling a bereaved parent that God will use it for good.  If I hear you say that, I will assure you that there was nothing good about losing John.  Can I learn from it? Certainly.  Can I become more compassionate?  Yes.  I hope so.  But no parent who loses a child will say any lesson that might be had would be worth the pain.  Nope.  Never.  God didn't take my son, an opioid addiction did.  Pain did.  Bad choices did. God allowed it, but he didn't allow it because he thought I needed sensitivity training.  

I have a couple pet peeves when it comes to grieving.  (Who am I kidding??  I have many). One is that "he got his wings".  Nope.  I'm never going to jump on that train with you. Angels are angels and people are people.  Look it up.  😇 Secondly, as already stated, God did not take my son from me. You can put the blame on him if you choose, but it is not how he operates.  If you get mad at God and cut him out of your life, I can assure you, it will only devastate you more.  God loves you so unbelievably.  He is your creator, your Father in Heaven, and He gives good gifts.  He gave you that child you so dearly loved - why on earth would he devastate you purposefully by taking said child back?  Thank him for allowing you to have that child for however long you did, but please, for your sake, don't blame him for that life ending.  You can have the conversation when you get to Heaven, about the timing and the circumstances, and I know it will all make sense to us then.  But please don't put this on Him. Be like Job.  God had faith in Job.  God assumed the best about Job.  So let's assume the best about God and each other. 

Despite the terrible losses Job endured, at the hand of Satan, he never lost his faith.  That's my plan too.  For as long as God gives me breath, I will praise Him.  I thank him for allowing me to be John's mom, even if it was only 24 very short years.  I'd do it all again.  The pain of losing him is immeasurable, but the thought of never having loved him at all?  Incomprehensible.  Don't let your circumstances crush your faith - the Bible promises us eternal life, and it will be amazing, hold on! But if you let the trouble of this life take steal your faith, I'm afraid it's just not going to end well. God has a plan for your life, please trust him. No matter what.