Austin's Blog

Grief is like walking against a current in a river. Before, you went with the current and there was ease. Now, because of the painful ordeal, you’ve turned the direction and have to move along against the river. There’s always this existential and deep pull and resistance. A friend said losing your child is like getting up in the morning and walking around with rocks in your pocket that weigh you down. It is like swimming with those rocks in your pocket. Of course, it will be easier to make the journey when the water levels dip lower. The task now is to continue wading and striving forward until the season changes. We don’t control the water levels or the weather. We must just keep swimming.

I’m encouraged that the river belongs to Someone. We might have been thrown into it suddenly but these waves and currents belong to Someone who commands their ebb and flow. The waves appear random from our perspective but nothing is ultimately random in God’s economy. John Piper writes, “Life is not a straight line leading from one blessing to the next and then finally to heaven. Life is a winding and troubled road. Switchback after switchback. And the point of biblical stories like Joseph and Job and Esther and Ruth is to help us feel in our bones (not just know in our heads) that God is for us in all these strange turns. God is not just showing up after the trouble and cleaning it up. He is plotting the course and managing the troubles with far-reaching purposes for our good and for the glory of Jesus Christ.” He’s in these deep currents with us and has ordained them for our good and His glory.

Years ago in South Mississippi, I discovered the most beautiful woodwork from a shallow river. The current had molded and shaped the wood into something truly astonishing. These currents are working on and in us too. Amelia Granberg notes, “In time, your soul will be changed, shaped by the river of deep loss, and what remains will allow you to embrace the Gospel more fully and chase the hope of eternity more wholeheartedly (Colossians 3:1–4).” Eternity will fully and finally reveal that work in us. For now, the currents are strong and the woodwork has only just begun. It is always easier to see the hand of providence as you look backward. To trust in the Lord is to look ahead to what He is accomplishing, even if we cannot currently see the work now. Randy Alcorn asks, “Shouldn’t we suppose that many of our most painful ordeals will look quite different a million years from now, as we recall them on the New Earth? What if one day we discover that God has wasted nothing in our life on Earth? What if we see that every agony was part of giving birth to an eternal joy?” For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.