If you were close to the dearly departed, then you probably had many near-strangers telling you that they 'know what you're going through' or 'know how you must be feeling.' Some of them just might know - they may have had a very similar experience. However, people typically mean that they understand that you have 'lost' (I hate that term*) someone to whom you were close and that they understand how they might feel or how people are expected to feel (given the culture and previous observations) in similar situations. Their understanding is based less on shared experience and more on a general idea of the experience. They 'know' but they don't know.
You may have also been that person who 'knows.' I have been on many occasions.
I remember when my childhood friend's dad passed away. I could imagine how I would feel in that situation but, sitting at the funeral (next to my dad), I realized that I could not know my friend's pain at that moment. I don't think I will ever know it. His relationship with his dad was different than the one my dad and I share. I can understand my friend but I cannot know him*. I 'know' but I don't know.
I also recall a time where something I only understood became something that I know. This is an experience that I have been hesitant to share but have felt impressed to do so for awhile (even before this blog began) as it starts with a fantastic question and leads to several more - especially for anyone who works with people, has loved ones, is living, etc.
It happened back in October of '09 (about 5-6 months ago). I had been working with the youth at my church's home site for awhile (since that July, although I have been working with the youth ministry at my church for much longer, I had also been involved in ministry elsewhere for a bit) and, as I was driving to church that night, I was talking to a friend of mine. He asked me an unexpected, thought-provoking, yadda yadda, question.
"If something were to happen where one of the youth would have to die - you can't take their place and you can't avoid it - who would you choose? And you have to choose."
I said that this question was thought-provoking. It is, but only when you think about it afterward and what your response means. It is when you analyze it.
The answer itself, however, may not require much thinking or deliberating time. It didn't for me. I knew who it was almost instantly.
The answer hurt.
I don't simply mean that I felt a little sad or guilty for choosing this individual. I know why I chose the individual; I know that I was correct in my choice.
The answer hurt because of all that made it correct.
I went through the entire gambit of painful emotions: hurt, sorrow, anger, worry, etc.
I wept heavily.
"Why ask me this?"
"Because I want you to think about it. Because you need to think about it."
Ouch.
"You know the answer."
"Yes, and I know you do too. But you've never thought about it and you need to."
"Why? What's going on?"
"First, tell me about it."
"Ugh. Okay, but first I'm going to tell why I DON'T want it to be this individual."
"I figured that's where you would start."
"This boy . . . there's just something different about him. He reminds me of why it's worth my time to make this 45 minute drive to this church twice a week. He's a reminder of the purpose given to this life I'm living.
"But there's more. He's, in some strange way, a reminder of who I am - something like a mirror in terms of personality and thought and emotion*.
"But even more. He's a reminder of the Promise. As much as I can see myself in him, I can see something greater forming and that reminds me that there is something greater forming in me.
"He's been a willing, but not selfish, receiver of my love overflow. I've poured more into him in this short time than I think I have gotten to for any person at any other point. I've poured more into him in every term: love-wise, time-wise, faith-wise, hope-wise, thought-wise, prayer-wise, etc. And he keeps receiving and it is so good to give.
"And even more. He's like a son* and I've been given a promise in him."
"And yet you chose this individual, why?"
"Because of all that I've just said. Because of what I've sown. Because, from all that, I can be certain that he is the right choice. Because I now know I would not be taking his life from him. He would give it."
"But you've said that you've been given a promise in him."
"That's right. And You made the promise. And I know You won't break it. So even if he dies, I'll have him back."
For those readers who have yet to figure this out: My friend in this conversation is God and, if you've never gotten into a conversation with Him like this (personal/informal), you should really try it*. This may also help you to better understand why I said "Why? What's going on?" I was concerned that this was a warning or preparation for something else.
"So why did you want me to think about this?"
"Because of the fact that until you thought about it, you didn't know it. You had to go through it first. The concept existed without you being aware and, by being made aware, you can actually enjoy its fruit."
"So what is this fruit?"
"Think to what you have understood but haven't known until now. What was this question like?"
And then it hit me.
Father Abraham has many sons and many sons have father Abraham but it all started with one son in whom he was given a promise.
We see that promise back in Genesis 15:5-6: "He brought him outside and said, ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then he said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness." (NRSV)
Now, I have understood Genesis 22:1-19 for awhile. Abraham is willing to sacrifice the son he loves (referred to as his 'only son' three times; the 'only son' of the promise; the 'only son' of his faith) because of a command. I understood Hebrews 11:17-19 where it says, "By faith Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only son, of whom he had been told, ‘It is through Isaac that descendants shall be named after you.’ He considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead—and figuratively speaking, he did receive him back." (NRSV)
I understood these in a completely detached sense - I didn't know them until God asked me that question and made me face that situation.
The fruit is that I now know what Abraham knew. The fruit is that I have had my faith confirmed. The fruit is that I now know the answer to that question God asked me. The fruit is that I'm sowing into something that IS bearing fruit. The fruit is that I now have a better grasp of what He did for my sake.
God asks the best questions.
*-And now I have an idea for a future post.
Wow. This is really good. "Because I now know I would not be taking his life from him. He would give it." This is brilliant. And I think it even hints at an answer to the legitimately difficult question of how the Father could condemn the Son on the cross. Great post Shan. I hope this is a sign of things to come.
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