I am having an epiphany that is causing me to rethink something. I can testify that raising a child is a lot of work. There are also hopes and dreams we have, even if we objectively tell ourselves that there are no guarantees on how my child will affect the world–for good or bad. I have found myself grieving for parents whose children die (especially grown children who end their own lives), not so much for their loss, although that part can’t be understated, but because I imagine they feel a sense of, almost, betrayal. Betrayal by life or fate, one might say, because the normal expectation is that whatsoever we sew, we shall reap. We labor for our children, if we are good parents, more than all the labor we put into anything else. When we reap a sudden end of our labors with little or no fruit, it hurts.
Last night, while praying at supper, I had this ominous feeling–my four eldest children were travelling to a school event, the three littlest were home. Betsy and I commented on the ‘remember whens’ of three small children at home. What if none of those four came home tonight was a thought I couldn’t escape. I didn’t have a terror, just a wondering. I’ve wondered before. What if, like Job, all I had worked for, was gone. Certainly, that was Job’s children, his stuff, and you might even say, his good name.
Job’s response is interesting, and telling. And, I just had a realization this morning that changes my perspective quite a bit. If my children died, would I bitterly regret the ‘wasted effort’? I realized this morning…absolutely not! I don’t look at it as wasted effort. Love gives but receives something more in return. Something you can’t put your finger on. I don’t like to work hard…now anyone who knows me may think argue otherwise. However, I like to do things I like to do, and sometimes other people would call that work. But, the things others like to do (weeding the garden) I call work, and I avoid those things if I can. I am certain that every person in the world can relate–as God has given each of us talents and personality that allows the world to function together beautifully. Raising children is lots of work, and no parent enjoys every part of it. Yet, if all my children were gone today, I am one step closer to understanding Job’s perspective–“I enjoyed the journey”. “My labors weren’t in vain because, even though their lives are over and no fruit comes from their lives now, I am more fruitful after having grown through those experiences.”
Then I thought about our Creator. He worked hard to bring about this universe and establish mankind. Then we ‘died.’ In other words, we could no longer bear the fruit that He expected from the seed He had sewn. Let that soak in a little……
Did God grieve at the death? Surely. Was He bitter that He had wasted the effort? I don’t think so. The bigger the Love, the bigger the Giving, the bigger the Receiving. Just not in the normal way that I had been imagining.