Austin's Blog

I heard a bereaved parent say, “The days are long but the years are short.” That certainly summarizes how we feel these days. The days appear to inch on, each one empty of our precious Gabe. They are hard because we love him so much—not loved but love (present tense). We will never grow accustomed to his death. It will always be a dark chapter in the book of our lives.

Ellen Vaughn writes, “The death of a loved one can come fast or slow. The sudden loss is devastating, a free fall through space where the mind cannot catch up with the reality of death. With the gradual loss, perhaps the mind has time to ‘get used’ to the idea of the loved one’s departure before it occurs. The problem is, we never become accustomed to death’s cruel theft of the one we love, whether it is a sudden robbery, so to speak, or a long, slow embezzlement.” We pass the cemetery often and feel the weight of our sudden robbery.

I can recognize and even appreciate all the spiritual good that has come about after his heavenly homecoming. Yet, appreciating the good that has resulted is not the same thing as arguing that what happened was good or that it really wasn’t all that bad. Christian Philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff rightly objects, arguing, “Don’t say it’s not really so bad. Because it is. Death is awful, demonic. If you think your task as comforter is to tell me that really, all things considered, it’s not so bad, you do not sit with me in my grief but place yourself off in the distance away from me. Over there, you are of no help.” There’s so much good that has come as a result of his passing but that doesn’t alleviate the overwhelming sorrow that his absence has left. The fact that beautiful flowers often grow around large craters does not mean the bomb going off did not utterly change the landscape.

There is a time for pointing out all the work of the Lord over the past nine months. I celebrate it. I rejoice in it. I appreciate it. I thank God for it. Perhaps alongside those glorious observations though, people could mention his name. They could mention him. Rejoicing in the good hinges upon the good gift of God that was and is Gabriel. I love to hear how God used it all but I equally love to hear that Gabriel has not been forgotten. The days are long now because they’re a whole lot quieter, lonelier, and emptier. Mentioning both the spiritual good and the good gift of God that is Gabriel speaks into that void.