Why Did I Get the Opportunity?

A question recently posted by Vanessa Bryant after the tragic loss of her husband and daughter reminded me of a place on my own journey through grief. I know this is more of a homestead blog, but I believe very much in turning around and helping the next person along. And we are whole people. We have whole emotions.

If you find yourself in the same dark place Vanessa and I have found ourselves, then my hope is: me being further down the path can shed some rays of hope for you along your journey.

Her question is the exact question I wrestled with for years after we lost four friends in a car accident on prom night, my freshman year of high school. It was the first time I had ever had to contend with the realities of life and death. For the first time, my own demise became a real life possibility in my brain and I for the first time I really thought about what happens after one dies. Where did my friends go? What are they seeing? What did they see the night of the crash? Can they see their families from Heaven? After all we are all on a crash course with death, with no possibility of avoiding collision. No one gets out alive. Where are we going after we take that last breath?

After my friends died I remember thinking to myself, "Why do I get the opportunity to wake up and live today, when my friends didn't get to?" After all we were supposed to be traveling through the same intersection at the same time they were hit by the drunk driver. But we decided to be rebellious teens and throw off curfew time.

I wrestled with guilt of why I got to still live, go to college, get married, have kids and my friends didn't. This guilt spurred a lot of ambition too. I wanted to make the most of every day and every second in my own way of not letting them down. Not wasting the opportunity afforded me but not them. What was I going to do with my opportunity? How was I going to be a force for good?

But after a while every time I thought about this question, the same words ran through my head. "Their job here was done. Your's isn't" It didn't make the hurting less. It didn't make me miss them any less. It didn't make me wish they would still run through the door and say it was all a big joke. It didn't erase the fact that I wanted to just hear their voices again. But I couldn't deny the truth of those words. As much as it didn't fit my narrative of how life should be and what I thought they still had left ahead of them. I am not the King of the Universe. My limited human brain can't know everything. And by their death God was telling me in clear terms. Their job here was done. They get to live in paradise now. I haven't arrived at my vacation time yet. I still have work to do before I can jet away to paradise. They in fact are the lucky ones.

It is a question that came about again when we lost our first son while I was still pregnant. When a human literally died inside my body. And reminded of it when I lost my soul-mate of a dog the same month. These events literally brought me to my knees for months. The questions haunted me day and night. With added ones like, "If God really loved you, why would he take your son and your dog?" "He knew what Harley meant to you. Why is he causing this suffering? How are you going to go on? What's the point? You tried so hard to live the natural lifestyle and God gave your dog cancer and didn't let your son develop without life-ending genetic complications. Isn't these the things you dedicated your whole life to help prevent? If he truly loved you, why would he do this to you?" When they continued with "See he doesn't really love you. This isn't what a loving father would do." It became clear who was coming for my soul. These are all lies the Devil wants you to believe. The tighter you cling to God's Truths, the harder he will try at finding any crack he can to exploit. Boy, can he be relentless, but you have someone way stronger in your corner. Every second. Of every day.

Even though I thought they had their whole lives ahead of them. That so much potential that was lost with them. It simply isn't truth. It's not God's truth. And as I've grown in my faith, I have come to realize....they are in paradise. What would I think about a friend or family member visiting an all-inclusive resort somewhere tropical, say in Hawaii? I would be excited for them. I would wait to see their pictures and hear all about their trip to paradise. God took my friends, my son, my dog, my family members to PARADISE!!! And I am quite certain Heaven is better than Hawaii... It doesn't make me miss them any less. It doesn't erase the million times a day I think about them. And wonder who's eyes our son would have had. What his smile would have looked like. What his laugh would have sounded like. What would his first words have been. What would his hug have felt like. It doesn't make me miss the feeling of being completely safe my Harley Allen. It doesn't minimize any of my loss. It just brings me peace to know they are in paradise.

It made me realize my sadness isn't for them. It is for me and my family for our lost time with our loved ones here on earth. For the loss of what I thought was available for them here on earth. For what I thought they were going to be able to do. For the opportunities, that I thought they missed out on. But all of this was cooked up in my mind. Not God's plan. God doesn't make mistakes. God has one goal-get you and me to Heaven.

In the process it hit me. You can't change history. Nothing you can do today can change what happened yesterday, last week, or any time prior. No matter what happens today, no one can go back and change the story of the Cross and what Jesus did for us. Nothing can change it. So are my eyes focused on the storm and wondering if God has ever loved me? Or are my eyes on the cross?

I find comfort in knowing one day I'll get to join all of our friends and family who have gone to paradise before me. And this hope for a blessed reunion brings me real, lasting joy.