Last week, my family and I visited Searcy, Arkansas. My youngest son had an admissions visit at Harding University, the alma mater of Laura and me. It was nice to run into some familiar faces, visit Midnight Oil Coffee House, and see all the changes to the town and campus since we moved away. Unfortunately, Mi Ranchito, a local Mexican restaurant that Laura and I frequented, has closed down.
One other thing we did was visit the grave of our son, Kenny, who would be twenty-three years old today. Like we’ve done before, Laura and I took a photo with our two other children, Caryn and Jared, standing by the flat headstone.
Of course, the loss of Kenny leaves a lasting sadness. I have never gotten over it, so to speak. Grief doesn’t go away over time; I have just learned to live with the grief. So grief is a journey, filled with lament and also the hope that springs from lament, knowing that the tomb is empty. Our son’s death isn’t forever. Kenny isn’t gone forever. I grieve his passing and ask God why our son couldn’t live, but I also know that he rests in Christ and will rise again when Christ comes again.
Regarding the journey of grief, I’m at a point where the bitterness has subsided, and I can reflect on the joys of Kenny’s life. That’s good because I promised Kenny that I would always remember him, and part of that is to remember not just the loss but also the good.
I remember the beauty of his mother as she gave birth to our first child. I remember the overwhelming sense of God’s presence as I held Kenny for the first time. I remember the joy of introducing Kenny to his grandparents as I carried him from the delivery room to the nursery. I remember the blessing of changing his diaper and caring for him as a parent should. I remember holding him as he slept, his firm grip grasping my finger. I remember…
And so I look at this picture of Caryn and Jared standing beside Kenny’s grave with a sense of God’s presence. Just as I sensed when Kenny was born, I know that God is here in this place and has extended his blessing. I look around and am reminded that Kenny is still part of a family. That Kenny has a younger sister and brother, and that they have an older brother. And today, on Kenny’s birthday, we will celebrate life as a family.
I never thought I would see any blessing standing beside Kenny’s grave, but that’s what I saw this past week. God was present there.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted…” – Psalm 34:18 (NIV)
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Author: K. Rex Butts
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