It Still Hurts

Janneke
Dec 2, 2020
5 min read

It still hurts. It’s been three years, the pain is not constant, it’s not daily or even weekly, but when the pain comes it still hurts. Every moment of process of losing my child can still come to memory, as if I had just experienced it. That memory and pain are OK with me now.

Do I feel mad at myself for being emotional still? Yeah for sure. I’ve cried so many tears. I’m so sick of emotions! But, every time my heart wells up with the memory of my child, I love it. It’s a bit odd. I feel slightly nauseous, I feel so much sadness and I also feel a sense of exhilaration and joy; like the painful moment is a good thing!

In a blessing I sought for three years back, the Lord promised me that “the pain wouldn’t last forever”. I couldn’t possibly understand what that meant, that I would begin to love the feeling of sadness coming to visit every now and then. The sadness and joy I feel is like putting on a treasured antique pearl necklace that I keep safely in my top drawer. The treasure of sad pearls only comes out on special occasions.

This has been a bad year for so many but this has been my best year in three. Kobe and his daughter died. Wuhan got COVID-19, the world got COVID-19. George Floyd struggled to breathe until there was no breath left in him. People everywhere began to feel either a resentment for oppression or fear of a coming oppression. We voted here in New Zealand, the US voted. My family lost one beloved to us, to suicide. There is still a housing crises, there are still poor among us. Hope and change is still such a distant horizon for so many. Zion is still not of one heart and one mind yet. I guess the good news is Jesus hasn’t come so there is still time to repent, to change, to teshuva - a Hebrew word for return or to turn. There is time for us to turn ourselves about to our God and ask him to fix us.

Three years ago, I thought I had done something wrong to lose my baby and I was desperate to know what and why and how? Before He said anything else to me, He said “Don’t be afraid”. And then I spent the better part of the last three years being afraid! Being afraid of people, being afraid of my reflection, being afraid of being a beastly person, being afraid of being substandard. I’ve spent the better part of three years fighting the paralysis of fear.

If you’re wondering if it sucked? It did, it has. Life has sucked! But life has not been devoid of joy. Life has not been devoid of miracles. Life has not been devoid of the spirit of the Lord. Life has not been devoid of His mercy, His revelation, His encouragement, His forgiveness and His unfathomable infinite love for me.

Isaiah the prophet asked:

“Art thou not he who hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep; that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over?

Therefore, the redeemed of the Lord shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy and holiness shall be upon their heads; and they shall obtain gladness and joy; sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”

And I read it as Yeshua answering Isaiah says:

“I am he; yea, I am he that comforteth you. Behold, who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of man ...

And forgettest the Lord thy maker, that hath stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth, and hast feared continually every day, because of the fury of the oppressor, as if he were ready to destroy? And where is the fury of the oppressor?

The captive exile hasteneth, that he may be loosed, and that he should not die in the pit, nor that his bread should fail.

But I am the Lord thy God, whose waves roared; the Lord of Hosts is my name.”

2 Nephi 8:10-15

I read this today and realised the sum of the lesson of three years. “Don’t be afraid” He said and I tried, but my faith was found wanting, like the father of the boy who needed healing and exclaimed “Lord help thou my unbelief.” I have had to use this phrase many times over and I find myself now with a new view of myself. For all that I have become and all that I am not.

I used to be so capable and I have become so broken. For three years my body has quit on me, most days I end crawling because it’s not possible to stand anymore. I used to be part of a school community, church community, family community and then anxiety became a fundamental part of my existence and self preservation meant that my energy went to the people for whom I answer to my God for most in this world: my husband and children. I used to think I liked doing things until I could only walk past my piano and the paints in the cupboard. I deleted social media, I thought I liked people until I could hardly trust anyone, anymore. I had to search daily for something that felt like living after the manner of happiness.

Life has sucked, yet through it all I’ve known my God dried the sea for the House of Israel to pass through on dry ground. I’ve known my God is the creator of the moon and stars. Those night skies consistently call me to an understanding that they were created to give me light in the darkness.

Prayer has been my life line. If I couldn’t regularly call out “Lord help thou my unbelief!” I don’t know how I would make it though the panic attacks, the intense grief and life with five children (that sometimes mentally feels like one million though it’s only five not eight, not ten).

The idea that to repent means teshuva, to return or to turn around has saved me. That though I am broken I can turn to the Lord and obtain gladness and joy, knowing that sorrow and mourning will go. Knowing, hoping I can come “singing unto Zion”. When the prophet Isaiah penned these words and speaks of “He” and when I speak of “He”, we speak of our Saviour, Yeshua, Jesus the Christ. It is He who said of himself:

“I am he; yea, I am he that comforteth you. Behold, who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of man...”

This year has been so bad for so many. It’s my best in three because my God is helping me through my lack of faith. I am not who I was. I can never be the same again. Sure, I can digress, I can become yellier, angrier, more spiteful, more lazy, more self indulgent but that’s not what I mean. I can never unshatter my heart. And if I could I wouldn’t choose too. I am now a “tad” decrepit. I see myself as weak and nothing but because I know these things from three years of firsthand experience - I also know my God. I continue to try to follow His call to me in the early hours of December 2, 2017 “Don’t be afraid.”

It still hurts. But I like the pain now. It is an evidence of Gods great mercies in my life. The evidence of Gods great mercies will be there in your life too. If this is your worst year ever - I’m sorry it sucks so bad. The pain or sorrow can become your joy over time and via a whole lot of effort. Maybe it won’t take you three years? Three years is worth it though, to know the

“I Am”, to know “I am He”.

It still hurts but He who knows my hurt, once hurt too.

...

Happy Birth/Death Day Son.

Your Father and I look forward to the day we can literally sing