Robert talked to John about 9:00pm on Friday, January 6, 2017, to confirm where we would meet him on the 8th once we arrived in Minneapolis. January 8th was his 27th birthday. It had been nine months since we had been up to see him. On April 3, 2016, we left him standing in the driveway of the home where he lived waving goodbye to us. As we drove away, I looked back until we turned the corner, and I silently prayed that it wouldn’t be the last time we saw him.
You see, when your child struggles with depression and addiction, you never know what any given day will bring. And this day, Saturday, January 7, 2017, was the day I had known could possibly come, but had never believed it would.
As I lay awake in bed that morning thinking about what I wanted to say to John if I had the opportunity during our visit, the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it was the local police department. Many thoughts raced through my mind—John doesn’t live in town so it can’t be about him—it’s early for them to be calling to ask for a donation—Robert just talked to John last night and he was looking forward to our visit—why would the local police be calling us? Would the local police be calling about John? Deep in my gut I knew something was wrong. I answered the phone, and they asked to speak to my husband.
I waited and tried to pick up something from the conversation as I paced the floor. When Robert looked at me and said, “He’s gone”, I could not believe it. No, not my baby, not my son, not my John—oh, God, help us! All I could think was, “No, no, no! We’re flying up to see him tomorrow—his birthday is tomorrow. NO! NO! NO!”
Robert grabbed me and we hugged tightly to one another, both sobbing in disbelief that this was really happening. We walked around the room, our minds swirling in thought. Robert took my hand and said, “Let’s pray”.
We sat on the bed and asked God to help us through the days we were about to face.
We thanked God for John’s life.
We thanked Him for putting John in our family.
We thanked Him that we knew John had trusted in Christ.
We thanked Him that we knew John was in Heaven.
We thanked Him that John was no longer suffering from the stronghold of depression and addiction.
We thanked Him that our precious, only son had finally reached perfect peace.
Robert began making phone calls. We were going need help.
Friends and family began to arrive at the house; it was a sweet time of ministry to us but under the worst of circumstances. I remember telling some close friends, sisters in Christ I had studied the Bible with and talked through life issues, “This is where I have to decide—do I believe the things I’ve told you about God?”
And the answer to that question then, and still is… “Yes, I believe.”
It’s easy for us to talk about what we believe, and quote Bible verses, and give counsel to others, but when life comes crashing down on us with a weight we’ve never before felt—it’s easier to question God, to blame God, to be angry with Him—to not believe.
Do I have days of doubt—of questions—of disbelief? YES. Many of them.
That’s when I muster up all the strength I have and cry out to the Lord, “… I believe, help my unbelief!” Mark 9:24
Those days, I’m sure, will keep coming as I am weak and in need of the Lord’s perfect power of strength on any given day. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
As I type these words, the feelings come rushing back as if I just received the call.
But God… He is my sustainer, my refuge, my strong tower, my savior, my LORD. I do not even pretend to understand the “why” of God’s plan, but I do choose to trust Him—no matter what.
“If the LORD had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence. When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O LORD, held me up. “
Psalm 94:17-18
Quoted scripture is from the ESV unless otherwise noted.
Waiting with Hope 