It's A Promise

“He said, 'While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept, for I said, Who knows whether the Lord will be gracious to me, that the child may live?But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.'”

~2 Samuel 12:22-23

In the above verse, King David’s infant son with Bathsheba had fallen ill. For a week, David lay on the floor fasting and praying for the Lord to heal the baby, but that didn’t happen. The child died. David got up, washed and dressed, and ate a meal. His servants were aghast. In those days, the custom was to fast after death, but David had it right. He prayed and fasted for his son, hoping the Lord would heal him but when that didn’t happen, David’s attitude changed. He knew his son had gone to be with the Lord—“I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.”

Loss is something we all experience. We know our grandparents are going to die, followed by our parents and various aunts, uncles and other relatives. But the loss of a child throws our entire view of life off kilter. Our children and grandchildren are supposed to follow us in death, not precede us. When someone experiences the death of their child or grandchild, everything changes. Life, God, breathing, getting through each day… everything is now a huge question mark and answers aren't easy to come by.

When my daughter, Cassandra died at age sixteen, I thought my world had ended. Taking a breath was difficult and just getting up in the morning was a chore, which was strange because I thought I would never sleep again. But I had other children to take care of, to try and explain the loss to, and a husband to take care of. While I was vocal with my feelings and cried often over our loss, Cassandra's father was the opposite. He didn't cry, he didn't talk about her, and in fact, he didn't want to talk about anything. I know he felt guilty because, as a man, he felt as if he should have been able to protect her. I understood his feelings logically, but not emotionally. But I think of David’s words often—I shall go to her, but she will not return to me. This is a promise of being reunited with the ones we love when we get to Heaven and I cling to that.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls (1 Peter 1:3-9).”

Read Luke 1-5

 ©2018 Marie McGaha