Sorrow in the Present

My thoughts continue to drift back to a boy in a river.

Emailing back and forth, discussing the events in the internado, and talking about Erica's general state of mind brings the word sorrow to my mind constantly. I keep wanting to point to the future, when things will be brighter...when there will be perspective on this event. But, to suggest such a thing to anyone in the grieving process is not helpful, compassionate, or fruitful.

Sorrow is very much a state of the present. It is hard to look forward to sunny days when sorrow is clouding the the sun. And in many ways, this is OK. Sorrow is necessary, and it is healthy. It is not easy to lose something as important as a unique human being. It is loss of the worst kind.

My thoughts drift again, this time to the seminol sorrowful experience in my own life...one with a significant date around the corner. Wednesday, November 10, my older brother would be 27. A few weeks after that I will have outlived him. Yes, sorrow is very much a word of the present. Not to take a cheap shot at those who were there for me and my family when Lee died, but to say something to the tune of, "Buck up, things will get better," is a horrible slap in the face.

Of course, they were right, things did get better. But to someone in the midst of the present, the future is not what you want to hear about.

Nevertheless, the future does come, and with it comes perspective, lessons and values learned, and sobering thoughts about both life and death. Hindsight is a funny thing. I turn to the Old Testament texts that I am studying for (or not studying for) in preparation for an exam tomorrow. All of these stories...this history. Did they know the significance of what they were doing? There is much sorrow in these stories. Were they able to see the significance as it was happening? Or did they find the meaning only much later? Or are we still seeking the meanings, even now?

I hope a community in Honduras can find meaning in the loss of a little boy. I hope they can find God working through tragedy, even now when it is hard to see. But for the present, I know they are working through sorrow. May God keep them. May God heal them. But for now, sorrow is enough.