The Only Promise

“How is your faith holding up?”  “Faith must be a hard thing for you these days.”

As a parent, I’m sure we’ve all gone into that dark place of wondering how we would react if something ever happened to one of our children.  Would our faith be made stronger? Would it crumble apart? Would we betray God? Shout curses at Him? Ignore Him altogether?

I am only beginning this heartbreaking journey.  Most days, I believe that my life is ruined, especially during those first few weeks.  As a parent, I had a vision for how my life would go. I was raising two little boys. Someday, they’d be in middle school, then high school, then off to college and eventually start their own lives.  I envisioned prom nights, driving lessons, college acceptance letters, weddings, and grandbabies. We all assume that this is how our children’s lives will progress. And then it doesn’t.

The moment Jameson died, my faith in any sort of future was shattered.  My family, my friends, my home, my job, my happiness, everything could be taken from me at any minute.  If I could lose Jameson, a seemingly perfectly healthy little boy, then anything was possible. My house can burn to the ground tomorrow.  As morbid as it sounds, I could lose the rest of my family and my friends. No one is immune to death and tragedy.

Ever since Jameson died, I can’t really envision any earthly future.  I don’t even want to think about it or put much trust in it. I don’t want to get my hopes up in a future for Rhys, Dan, or me that may or may not exist.  

Losing a child showed me very quickly and clearly that there are no promises in this life.  We weren’t careless parents. We don’t have a family history of illness. We aren’t neglectful.  We fed our children healthy foods. They got plenty of exercise. We read to them. We took them to church.  We read the Bible together and taught them about Jesus. And we still lost our son.

There is only one promise.  Everything, and I mean everything in our lives could be stripped from us at any moment.  The only promise left is God’s promise. His word, the promises for our eternity, is all that we can really count on.  He doesn’t promise me a husband, children, a home, a car, or happiness. Those things can come and go. They are simply gifts.

Nowadays, the only future I can see is that someday I will go to Heaven and see my son again.  That’s just about it. I may never see any of my other plans for my life here on Earth, but I know that when I take my last breath, I’ll join Jameson.  And I know that the rest of my family of believers will go there too. It’s not an imaginary world in the clouds. It’s as real as anything else I can experience.  

Really, the only comfort in losing Jameson is that I know where he is.  I don’t have to wonder. He gave his life to Jesus and asked to be baptized last year.  He spent his time reading his Bible and learning about Jesus. A few weeks before he died, he was so excited to be picked for a deeper Bible study with some older kids.  You should have seen the proud smile on his face when he came out of his Bible study. He was the youngest kid in there by far, but He had big faith. Yes, I know exactly where my little boy is.  I know that he’s happy and safe. I honestly can’t imagine how much more despair I would feel if I didn’t know where my little boy is spending his eternity.

On this long journey, I’m sure faith will be a difficult thing to hold onto at times.  I may get very angry at God. I question why I had to lose my little boy. I may scream to Him at the top of my lungs.  “Why did this happen to me??!!!” I need to remember that God can take it. He can handle my anger, frustration, and confusion.  He’s stronger than anything I can throw at Him.

For anyone who asks me over the next few months or years how my faith is, how I’m surviving:  thank you. Thank you for caring enough about me to go on this journey with me and help me through times when faith is difficult.  Remind me of God’s word and His love. Talk with me about Heaven. Tell me what you think it’s like and what you think Jameson is doing there.  Remind me that it’s okay to get angry and frustrated and that God can handle it.