Number 3

Today is Vinny’s third birthday in heaven.  He has been gone from this earth for almost 2.5 years.  So weird.  I don’t think a waking hour goes by that I don’t think of him.  I am reading Larry Crabb’s Shattered Dreams.  It’s a very good book.  He talks about people just trying to manage their pain.  To experience just enough happiness so we can cope with a pain that never goes away.  People who have not experienced great loss don’t understand this concept.  God doesn’t want us to “just deal” with it.  He wants to take us beyond a measure of happiness to true joy in the midst of great pain.  That’s what Larry Crabb illustrates in his book through the story of Naomi. 

You should read the book.  Really, you should.

Am I mad about Vinny’s death?  No.  Do I question God about it?  No.  I don’t think it’s wrong if people do though.  I don’t think I’ve arrived because I don’t.  It’s very self righteous to put someone else’s trials that God has ordained for them on your time timeline of expectations for them.  Don’t go there.  Do I have more peace about Vinny in how it relates to my own life?  Certainly.   I firmly believe that God did not design us for death.  We are physical beings and because of the fall we all experience the death of loved ones and our own death.  It’s beyond our comprehension to fully process the physical loss of someone so close.  With time it gets easier for me.  I do have many moments when I say to myself, “Oh my gosh, my brother’s dead.  He’s dead.  He’s dead.”  My brother will never see my son on earth.  My brother will never call me again.  My brother isn’t going to show up.  He’s gone.  He’s gone.  Yes, I still have many, many moments like these.  I count it a privilege to suffer with others who lose people.  Especially a sudden loss.  Not being able to say goodbye.  God has put me in the ranks with a group of people.  I am thankful.  I am thankful to know what it means to not want to pick yourself up off the bathroom floor.  To not want to go on.  I am thankful to know what it means to not be able to physically breathe because of the effect of grief on your body.  I am thankful to know what it feels like to be in so much pain a few months after the death and to have a close relative ask what is wrong because they have already forgotten.  To feel like you have to hide your grief.  I am thankful I have been there.