I don't think it's true what they say about time healing all wounds. I really don't. Oh sure - time heals some wounds. Physical ones heal and go away, some not even leaving a scar. Psychological and emotional ones can take longer but time still does its magic on them.
But what about the ones we prayed for? I mean - longingly poured our hearts out for and asked to have? I don't think time heals those. And maybe it shouldn't.
5 years ago this month our son, Brighton Asher, went home to Heaven. And left a gaping hole in our hearts that precious little can fill. Sure - it gets a little easier to talk about him - but I can still lose it like it was yesterday (ask anybody who was at our 5k race last fall).
But here's the kicker - I ASKED for this. This weight. This pain. This daily struggle I have. Because yes - 5 years ago my son passed away before we could hold him and love on him. But 6 YEARS AGO I spent almost every single one of my runs praying my mind out to God asking Him this, over and over and over:
"God... break my heart for what breaks yours. Break it and then use me..."I did not expect and could have never have scripted what was to follow.
But the truth is... I don't think I'd change a thing.
Oh sure... I LONG to toss a ball with Brighton, take him running, teach him to ride a bike, throw him up on my shoulders, tickle him, pick him up when he falls, treat him to Yogli Mogli, teach him about God... and it hurts bad - almost daily - to know I'll never do that this side of Heaven.
But the flip side of this - the thing I glimpse every now and then when I let my broken heart sneak out from underneath the weight of a lost son - is that I have gotten to know the nature of God. I have gotten to know Him in ways I couldn't have ever imagined. I've experienced Him in pain and in the sorrow that fills His heart. But mostly in His redemptive healing.
The outcome of a simple and unassuming prayer 6 years ago now has me spending every single January filled with a cornucopia of emotions from pain, confusion and sorrow to happiness, joy and gratefulness.
But mostly... mostly I find myself reflecting on God. My savior. A savior who knows what it's like to lose a son.