I picked up Celebration of Discipline thinking I might read a chapter. I opened to his acknowledgements and found this poem by Charles Wesley in the 1998 entry.
If DEATH my friend and me divide,
thou does not, Lord, my sorrow chide,
or frown my tears to see;
restrained from passionate excess,
thou bidst me mourn in calm distress
for them that rest in thess.
I feel a strong immortal hope,
which bears my mournful spirit up
beneath its mountain load;
redeemed from death, and grief and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
within the arms of God.
Pass a few fleeting moments more
and death the blessing shall restore
which death has snatch away;
for me thou wilt the summons send,
and give me back my parted friend
in that eternal day.
~Charles Wesley
Oh, the tears came. I found myself wishing that Mom was hear to tell me that I’m okay, and its normal to feel tired with all that’s gone on. I desire her comfort. I want to hear her say that she understands and has been though something like it and to hear her tell her story. I still weep for that loss. I feel like it’s totally selfish to want those things when she has something so much better now. How can I wish that she were still here? I feel like that makes the whole sorrow bit even worse, that it is for my comfort that I want her back. Though it is me, us, who has suffered the loss, not her. It is Dad, Emily and I who experience the pain of death, not Mom. She is in glory, and knows not pain or suffering or difficulty. For me to acknowledge my desire for her comfort is probably good, I guess its an aspect of accepting this loss. Oh, loss hurts so much. It makes me angry to think that we must suffer such loss, such difficulty. I know why. That is no mystery. And I know the remedy offered. Again, no mystery. I guess it isn’t wrong for me to be angry about the effects of sin.
If DEATH my friend and me divide,
thou does not, Lord, my sorrow chide,
or frown my tears to see;
restrained from passionate excess,
thou bidst me mourn in calm distress
for them that rest in thess.
I feel a strong immortal hope,
which bears my mournful spirit up
beneath its mountain load;
redeemed from death, and grief and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
within the arms of God.
Pass a few fleeting moments more
and death the blessing shall restore
which death has snatch away;
for me thou wilt the summons send,
and give me back my parted friend
in that eternal day.
~Charles Wesley
Oh, the tears came. I found myself wishing that Mom was hear to tell me that I’m okay, and its normal to feel tired with all that’s gone on. I desire her comfort. I want to hear her say that she understands and has been though something like it and to hear her tell her story. I still weep for that loss. I feel like it’s totally selfish to want those things when she has something so much better now. How can I wish that she were still here? I feel like that makes the whole sorrow bit even worse, that it is for my comfort that I want her back. Though it is me, us, who has suffered the loss, not her. It is Dad, Emily and I who experience the pain of death, not Mom. She is in glory, and knows not pain or suffering or difficulty. For me to acknowledge my desire for her comfort is probably good, I guess its an aspect of accepting this loss. Oh, loss hurts so much. It makes me angry to think that we must suffer such loss, such difficulty. I know why. That is no mystery. And I know the remedy offered. Again, no mystery. I guess it isn’t wrong for me to be angry about the effects of sin.
But what do I do with this loss, this anger? Yes, yes, embrace it. But HOW does one embrace loss? How do I embrace anger? What does it mean to accept it? I do not expect to ever stop feeling the loss of Mom. Though I’m guessing the sharpness of the pain will pass. At the same time, there is something in me that hopes the pain never goes away, I don’t ever want to think of Mom and not feel a sharp pain at her absence. I hope that isn’t wrong, and I hope that I can accept/handle whatever happens.
