Does Time Heal?

I didn’t want to be on this road. I begged for it not to come, but there was no turning around.

Photo by Hans on Unsplash

“I love you, Johann. I’ll always love you. I want to keep you here, but the time has come when I must release you back into the arms of Jesus.” I stroked my son’s clammy brow as the words fragilely departed my lips. At the same instant, my son’s best friend, who was holding his hand, felt it go limp. I looked over at the doctor on the opposite side of the bed, “Is he…?” His nod with mournful eyes answered my fears.

After enduring a rare liver cancer for two and a half years, beating all medical odds, my precious firstborn son was gone. Without permission, my life’s journey took an abrupt turn from nurturer, teacher, caregiver, and counselor to grieving mother.

I didn’t want to be on this road. I begged for it not to come. It was a journey I read about others taking, but God forbid that it should be mine. How I longed to turn around, run back the way I’d come. Run, run. Run back twenty-two years and restart the journey of motherhood. Wishing as hard as I might, turning around was not an option. Here I was, on the road marked “grief”, along with my husband, three hurting younger sons, extended family, and close friends, traveling on a strange road to an unknown destination. There was no turning back.

They say that “time heals”. Sometimes I see time as very mean. The separation, the loneliness, the inability to communicate, the longing to see, to hug, to caress, to laugh with the departed loved one is excruciatingly painful. The empty chair at family gatherings. The limp Christmas stocking hanging on the mantel. The Mother’s Day card with the missing signature. All leave a hole that can never be filled.

Every year since 2008, when November comes rolling around, a mixture of emotions invades me. Memories, longing, and some tears resurface from where they’d been laid to rest, along with a promise.

Does time heal?

Time makes me agonizingly wait. I loathe that aspect of time. Knowing that my son, parents, grandparents, and numerous other relatives and friends are unimaginably enjoying the presence of the Lord, beholding His beauty, worshipping the Miracle Maker, makes me long to leave this degenerating world and join them. But, wait, I must...it’s not my time.

“In the fullness of time God sent his son,” Galatians 4:4. At just the right moment in Earth’s history, God sent his Son to redeem mankind.

Jesus told his disciples in John chapter 14

1.“Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. 2 In My Father’s house are many [a]mansions; if it were not so, [b]I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself.” NKJV

When will He come? In God’s time. That’s His promise.

Does time heal? I can tell what I’m learning.

In the waiting room, ‘time’ belongs to God. He owns it. Just as the amputee will forever live with the scar of a lost limb, time will not erase our loss, but our purpose never dies. Time is a gift. A gift that brings joy to be with others whom I love. Joy for me to share. Time tells me to listen closely to God’s voice and keep following. Trusting in God’s promise gives me hope. Hope to give away. Hope hugs me, dries my tears, puts courage under my wings, and gives me the power to fly. I keep my eyes focused on the prize – the goal – the hope – the joy - to see my Savior and be reunited with my loved ones in my eternal home.

Johann, my son, my son, how my heart aches to see you, to laugh, to hug, to talk, and talk and talk and talk! You have crossed the finish line before me; how incredulous! While time has no meaning for you, it still holds me back like an expectant couple, waiting for the big reveal. In the meantime, I am committed to living fully while I wait, staying busy fulfilling God’s purpose for me, holding you ever close to my heart… until it’s my time.

Dear reader, are you grieving a loss today? Do you know someone who is grieving? The Holidays can be very challenging. My prayer is that you will find strength in God to keep going. Please know that God loves you and He knows your situation. You are here because you are still needed here. You have purpose! Don’t lose sight of that.

Keep running. Keep serving. Keep listening. Keep loving. Keep living. You have a cloud of witnesses cheering you on. They’ll be lined up waiting for the moment you cross the finish line—when it’s your time.

***

I pray this entry has been a blessing to you. Please leave a comment if you desire. I’d love to hear from you.

Also, please share this message with others to give them hope for their journey.

God bless and keep you, and yours!