I know that God puts people in our life at certain times, for certain reasons. Cliches and phrases about addiction, grief, and fertility struggles have filled my ears these past five months.
It will take time.
Take it one day at a time.
He is in a better place.
Try not to worry.
Let go and let God.
God has a plan for you.
Trust His timing.
Sometimes, those words are helpful. Some of them, I find myself saying. However, it is rare that someone's words truly soothe my saddened and worried soul. My friend Sally from Bible study, asking us to pray for her to find joy in the midst of her grief, and the way in which she described joy as being eternal, was exactly what I needed to hear on Tuesday night.
On Tuesday night, God told me to get out from under my pink afghan, take off my sweatpants, comb my hair, and drive the five minutes to Bible study so that I could hear Sally's words. I certainly didn't want to, but He gave me the motivation, knowing that I desperately needed to be reminded of the source of our joy.
The truth is that lately, I have been overwhelmingly sad. I miss my little brother so much that sometimes I find myself denying that he is gone. I am hurting over another failed IUI. My sister's heart is broken by a man, therefore causing me to worry and have a broken heart for her. My husband is having a difficult time at work, and I so want him to be happy. My parents are looking for a new home; their current house is the last place that we were a family together...Matt is everywhere there. These things are just sad.
BUT, Sally's words reminded me that there is something more, something better for me, for all of us. I had forgotten. This is the saddest time of my life. In my 33 years, I have never ached, or hurt so badly. However, I have hurt before.
I was sad when my heart was broken for the first time. I was sad when I failed my first math class in college. I was sad when I lost my first job. I was sad when my favorite uncle took his life. I was sad when my beloved grandma, and then grandfather went to Heaven. I was sad when we had to put my darling dog to sleep. I was sad when I fought with my husband. I was sad when I fell and scraped my knee. I was even more sad when I caught my finger in a door of the locker room and missed Family Swim. I was sad when we moved towns and I had to say good-bye to my friends. I was even more sad when I graduated college and had to say good-bye to better friends. I was heartbroken when I had to tell my brother that he had to leave our home and go to rehab.
Matt was sad when he was alone in his apartment, and couldn't say no to the power of his addiction.
But Matt is not sad anymore. Matt is eternally happy and he was from the moment that he closed his eyes, Jesus picked him up in His arms, told him that he was safe, and took Matthew home.
Some of our sadness will leave us when we are here on this earth. I'm no longer sad about my sweet dog, Tyler. My finger and my knee have long since healed. I am forever friends with the girls that I temporarily said good-bye to in May of 2003. I graduated college, despite being terrible at math, and I have a job at a really great school, teaching the hilarious age of 5th grade. My husband and I always make-up after we fight, and if I hadn't had my heart broken the first time, I never would have met him. I still miss my grandma, my grandpa, and my uncle, but I have peace in knowing that I will see them in Heaven.
Joy has come despite those hurts. Sometimes, it took a little longer, but there has been healing. In some circumstances, joy can only come again in the arms of God. We have the promise that we will find joy again; here on this earth but also that there will be more joy than we can ever imagine in Heaven.
Am I sad now? Yes. Sometimes it is debilitating. I don't know if the loss of my brother will ever truly stop hurting while I am here on this earth. I can only imagine the joy that I will feel when I see him again.
The week that we lost Matt, I took Leo for a run down to my favorite spot at Lake Michigan. I could hear Matt.
"Come on Jules, let him off the leash."
I did, and Leo ran right to the water. As he ran and played, and brought me sticks, I started crying and talking to Matt. I told him how much I missed him, how I loved him so, how scared I was, how heartbroken we all were.
God gave me a clear vision of Matt that day, to replace the angst, and memories of him sick. Down by the lake that day, I could see Matt with his clear blue eyes, a plaid shirt and jeans, flip flops, and his hands shoved in his pockets. He was smiling.
"I know sis. It's ok. I'm sorry sis. I'm ok. I love you sis. I know sis," I heard him say.
God gave me that vision of Matt, and those words that he would say, to remind me that he had given Matt the pure joy that he was no longer having here on this earth.
God will give us pure joy again, I know He will. This time, it might take a little longer. Someday, I will be able to wrap my arms around Matt, and he will tell me those words I heard by the lake, but I will really hear them from his mouth.
"I know sis. It's ok. I'm sorry sis. I'm ok. I love you sis. I know, sis."
Here on earth, I have God talking to me.
"I will take care of you. It will be ok. I love you. You will see him again. Until then, look for joy. It will come."
The joy of the Lord is everlasting, and my sadness will heal.
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