Recoil

We went to a funeral home yesterday to start some initial planning for a major step in Macayla’s journey. I will try to update the Uncommon Needs blog with the more technical information as it becomes available as part of the “End of Life” entries. It is so difficult to plan a funeral for a loved one and it is paralyzing for a parent to plan the funeral of a child. However, Macayla’s funeral is one of her needs. It is a need just as much as her wheelchair and medications. It is as much of a need as the quality time and love we share with her now. It is at once a need based on logistics and a need based on love. We struggled with taking the actual step of going to the funeral home, but once we did we felt a bit of a weight lifted. Overall, it was a helpful experience, much to the credit of Mr. Derksen who graciously listened and guided our thought process.

Our discussion led to the subject of caskets it was a moment that I could feel myself shrinking from. Walking into a “showroom” (so to speak) of caskets and pondering that for your daughter is daunting and doleful. We have some ideas of how we want to proceed in that area, but the strangest part was knowing the emotions this stirred and yet we did not express any of them while standing in a room full of caskets. I began to wonder if something was wrong with me for being so stoic.

This morning, I experienced a prayer moment that shed some light on my state of mind. I realized that I have been recoiling from the emotions for quite awhile. It is as if I had placed my hand on a stove burner and jerked away. Anytime I sense the emotional response to our situation, I recoil from it so that I can function. I have apparently gotten very good at it too. During prayer this morning, I sensed Christ saying, “Let it out.” I was reminded of how he wept at Lazarus’ tomb. He was not stoic or even sanguine since he knew that Lazarus would live again (John 11). He wept along side the people at the funeral. So, this morning I let it out in a cathartic burst. Even in the midst of tears I wanted to pull away and recoil from the pain and loss death brings, but Jesus reminded me that He did not pull away. He reminded me of the grief and anguish He felt as He approached the cross. He did not recoil from the pain. He did not recoil from the anguish. He embraced it and because he did, sin and death are defeated. Because He did not recoil, Macayla’s funeral marks her step into the ultimate life. Because He did not recoil, we catch glimpses of that ultimate life now. Recoiling from the pain has caused me to miss the greater perspective of life.