So my friends’ dad died a bit over a week ago. His daughters came back to school on Tuesday. I don’t know how they’re handling it. We’ve talked only a little. Everything has just returned to a very melancholy normal. We are all sadder. And sometimes I am afraid. It’s the selfish kind of afraid. The best way I can describe it is by posting a RECENT Letter to God (most Letters to God that I post are older):
January 15, 2013
Cassie and Erin’s* dad died last night.
Lord. God.
Geez.
Be with them.
I can’t believe it. Geez. He was just okay. Lord. Be there for them. Please. Be there for us too. Please. Geez.
Later.
Jesus wept.
-John 11:35
Shortest verse in the Bible. (And while writing this I thought of this post from one of my friends)
Zelda kept trying to cheer me up. But, for the most part, I wouldn’t be cheered. I know that their dad is up in heaven now, but I’m so sad for them. I know they’re hurting and I’m hurting because they are. My mood has always reflected and absorbed the moods of others. This is no exception, and it’s so much more extreme. I know Cassie and Erin well and I know how they will be when they come to school, and it hurts me.
Sometimes my mood rebounds; sometimes my mood sucks up other moods but still has enough joy to remain fairly upbeat. But this is so different. I know Cassie and Erin. I also know knew their dad. I loved their dad. And it’s not going to be right to go to their house and not see him. God, I already feel his absence.
Death is moving closer. It scares me, Lord. I know that You conquered death and that we have eternal life in and with You, but Lord, I don’t want to lose those I love. This train of thought is so selfish, but, oh, Lord. I want them with me.
Death is moving closer to me personally. First, the Smith’s dad died. I didn’t really know them, other than name. Then Susie’s dad died. I know her enough to be an acquaintance. Then Grace’s dad died. I know her. Last year, I saw her every day, I talked to her every day. We had creative writing together, so I saw her deal with her relationship with You and her overwhelming, poorly disguised sadness. Then Cassie and Erin’s dad. I know them so well and I knew him too. Death has been creeping closer and I’m worried. There’s nothing I can do, but I’m worried.
And the same has been happening at church. Amelia’s dad died and I saw the impact. I saw her astonishing faith in You and how she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that her daddy is with You in heaven. Then Matt, our worship pastor. We saw him every week and then he’s gone. And, I just pray that no one else dies. Lord, I want Death to move no closer. I want You to blow it away, blind it and demolish it. There has been so much death lately and it makes me so gloomy, so sad. And all of those deaths were sudden. None of them were expected. Worry, worry, worry. I know You’ve got it all under control, so Lord, let me not worry.
Please take the worry, the fear, the sorrow (so it doesn’t overwhelm me or Cassie or Erin or their mom or Clementine or Susie or the Smiths or Grace or any of the church who have been touched by death). Take it and give us love and a peace that comes only from You. Give us also a passion to live, because we don’t know when we will leave this world too.
Touched by death: This reminds me of how some Indians would, rather than kill their enemy, touch him and/or take his spear or something. It showed that they were stronger, smarter, better than their enemy, and also made their enemy fear them more for they realized that they had the capability to kill them at any time. And that makes me feel like Satan is using this pattern of sudden deaths to freak us out. Rather than that, Lord give us peace, strength, and courage. Let us not be afraid of death, whether we feel when we will go or not.
Thank You.
Love,
Bria
I wrote all that on the bus. When I got off the bus, my dad opened the door and hugged me. It was like a minute-long hug. I’ve never had a longer hug. That’s one of the only hugs I remember actually getting from him. I’ve also almost never seen my dad cry. But there, his voice was all wobbly, and I could feel his jaw clenching and unclenching during the hug; he was trying not to cry. His eyes were red. My eyes are red.
Lord, there’s too much death.
*As usual, all names have been changed.
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