Life Without Mother

For those who may not know me well, I tend to cope with humor. I will search for silver linings to cling to or, in the absence of any obvious ones, I’ll creatively craft my own — through humor. In this particular life circumstance, this has often presented itself through the infamously termed “Dead Mom Jokes”. (If you know, you know.) I was considering this tendency of mine today, after having made one to one of my co-workers. Perhaps I’ve explained such jokes before, but to qualify as a “joke”, any comment alluding to the lost loved one must imply a silver lining from the loss, not a longing for the lost one (i.e. “I never have to ask my mom for permission on anything,” vs. “I wish my mom was here to ask permission,” respectively).

Now, what this tendency made me consider was the security of peace in my mother’s passing from which I can then laugh without guilt. I can live happily in grief because I know I will see her again. She is more alive now than she ever was here. And, because of this truth, I have peace. Peace is the foundation. I can remember times with her — I can remember her — with happiness because of that peace I have in Christ, knowing that not only she believed, but I also am secured for eternity.

As a Christian, I think there is a focus on the peace, and the idea of joy, in the midst of grief. As if we simply walk through life with a softness regarding our grief, and perhaps even a perpetual smile. Of course, I know for a fact that I am not the only one to experience grief as a Christian, nor the only one to write of the experience, or of the Biblical truth regarding grief. But, this is my platform from which I can describe the cultural influence (even Christian cultural influence) I’ve felt along my journey in making sense of this experience in conjunction with His Truth.

I was considering the pain I often feel. Pain that cuts to the heart like a knife (and I would know about such cuts considering how often I’ve cut myself in the kitchen). After seven years, one of the most freeing things is realizing that the peace I have in Christ becomes a safety net for the searing pain of loss. The pain cuts because loss is the severing of a relationship. And routine and familiarity (for one such as myself who craves such things).

It’s as David describes in Psalm 91 — we can “dwell in His shelter” and “rest in His shadow” and “He will cover you with His feathers” — and that’s just a couple of lines from this beautiful psalm of comfort in sorrow, pain, and insecurity of any kind. (Seriously, go and read it now if you’re needing some reminders of God’s greatness and goodness and personal care for your wellbeing. See below for the full passage.) To be clear, Psalm 91 is not a prosperity promise. It does not mean difficulty will never come. When read through the lens of the Gospel, we see that the promises of 91 is God’s personal care for His children through the trials — as He promises in James 1.

Ah, James 1. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…” This is perhaps one of the sources for the expectation I’ve felt to not be sad. To feel guilty for feeling any pain over my loss, particularly after a certain point (i.e. a whole seven years afterwards). But, it is often the pain in the midst of peace that is the testimony of God’s faithfulness and goodness. My joy is not in the loss of the relationship, but in what Jesus did through His death and resurrection: promised those who believe an eternity free from the pain of loss.

Pain and joy are not mutually exclusive.

Pain and peace are not mutually exclusive.

Because of my security in Christ, I am at peace even when I am crying my eyes out in grief over the brokenness of this world. And because of that peace, I know the pain of today may last to tomorrow and the next day. But, it also may not last even through the night. There is no pressure to “get over it” and “feel better,” but it is also okay to feel okay again. God is with me in those dark moments and in the lighter ones. And, as He promises in Psalm 91, “He will save you” (v. 3). He will guide me through the pain to wellness, through pain again to wellness, until the day I am healed in completion. And that is my testimony that promotes that pure joy.

Psalm 91
¹ Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
² I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”

³ Surely He will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
⁴ He will cover you with His feathers,
    and under His wings you will find refuge;
    His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
⁵ You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
⁶ nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
⁷ A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
⁸ You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.
⁹ If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
¹⁰ no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
¹¹ For He will command His angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
¹² they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
¹³ You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

¹⁴ “Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges My name.
¹⁵ He will call on Me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him My salvation.”