Grief

Sarah Katherine Davis Photography

This past weekend, a friend died. Though I didn't know him extremely well, I knew his older sister. I knew all the men on his dorm floor, including my boyfriend, who lived alongside of him day in and day out. I knew of what sort of person he was--kind, soft spoken at times, filled with wit and goofiness at other times, a musician in love with his craft, a Christian in fast pursuit of God.

I have tried to "get over it." Move on. Put up posts about beautiful photography. Do homework and choir and make coffee. But when a wonderful 18 year old soul suddenly dies, you are not left unscarred. When an amazing family who adores Jesus suddenly looses their youngest son and brother, you are not left apathetic to their sorrow.

However, after spending time with his family, I see that my grief was often misplaced. His parents are the greatest testimony I have ever seen in my entire life to Christians who are resting in God's grace and peace. They just lost a son yet were able to praise Jesus' name. Indeed, there was sorrow and pain and tears. Yet, the hope of heaven just radiated from them and ministered to everyone they encountered. I have never seen a Christian funeral; only one's filled with despair and no hope. This family epitomized celebrating both their son's life and the new, vibrant, immensely better life he is now living with his Creator. They mourned--but not as those who have no hope.

I am trying to wrestle with this grief. It's the first time anyone in my age group who I knew has died. Everyone on campus feels the grief and wrestling. There are more stoic faces than joyful.

But will our grief be hopeless? Or hopeful?

The next time we see our friend, we will never be separated--for all eternity. We will join him in forever singing the praises of our good Lord.

"When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, 

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul!

 

It is well, with my soul. It is well, it is well, with my soul.

 

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! 

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

 

It is well, with my soul. It is well, it is well, with my soul.

 

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, 

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul. 

 

It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul."