A Light for My Path

One of the devotionals I read is from Proverbs 31 Ministries. There’s so much about this organization I love – their morning posts, their in-depth Bible studies, their books and podcasts, and their in-person seminars. They offer a writing program for Christian women through their Compel training branch. I went through their training program for over a year and then was a leader of one of their writing groups for a while. I learned a lot and found them to be an impressive institution.

So, I had mixed feelings last Thursday morning when I read that day’s devotional. The author starting out by recounting how her daughter had found her in tears during a family gathering and she sobbed “I miss your sister.” My initial reaction was sympathy. Family get-togethers are always hard after child loss.

Then she went on to explain that her other daughter had recently moved thousands of miles away and she couldn’t visit her. Text messaging and Zoom calls were a poor substitute for being in the same room with each other. She even deigned to say “how could I be content with her absence when I missed her so much?”. My sympathy immediately turned to outrage. “Your daughter is still alive! You can hear her voice, see her face, wrap your arms around her! Maybe not as often as you’d like. But, you can!” I screamed these thoughts in my head, threw my phone down on the couch, and stomped out to the porch fuming.

“People are so ignorant” I said under my breath. Not ignorant, my conscience whispered, innocent. Naïve. Blessedly unaware. And, you’re jealous.

Yes, I am, I replied.

I’m jealous of people whose families are intact. All of their children are still here on this earth. They may bemoan the empty nest. Feel like their house is too quiet when all the kids are away at college or moving across the country for a job. Be sad when their deployed son or daughter can’t come home for Christmas. But, they don’t face an unknowable number of years, an uncrossable infinite span of space between now and seeing their child again.

I stood on the porch awhile nursing my anger. But, I couldn’t sustain it. Their sadness is real. Their loneliness in an empty house is authentic. Their nostalgia for the busyness of young parenthood genuine. And, I pray they never experience anything worse.

The early morning sunlight was playing through the trees. I could see the river flowing by. The porch swing beaconed. This quiet, beautiful place has given my heart such contentment. So, I retrieved my phone from the couch and sat in the swing to read the rest of the devotional.

The author went on to talk about Paul’s instructions to the congregation at Philippi to be content despite their current life circumstances. Paul talked about all the struggles he himself had faced and said “I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13) And, in verse 19, “My God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.”

I am convinced that God brought us to this beautiful place 10 years ago because He knew that we would need the peace and comfort of the woods, the river, the wonderful neighbors, even the porch swing. I miss my daughter, who is forever out of reach until I join her in Heaven, but I can be content in this season of my life because God holds me up. He gives me strength.

Don’t be jealous. He’ll do the same for you.

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Laura