When I was a child, a family friend lost her husband and her oldest son in an accident. It shook our little community to the core. We truly were never the same. During that time, I hurt so badly for that sweet mom and those children. She was asked to face the ultimate challenge. After the accident, I can’t tell you the number of times I have thought of them. Eighteen years later, I still think of them often.

I remember looking at them and feeling like I was part of this larger group and this little grieving family was way out on an island. No matter how much I hurt for them or thought of them or tried to relate to their journey… They were part of a different life. I was on the mainland and in a whole different world.

Now, I am on the island.

I was forced to get on the one way ferry of pain to this island, only to never return to the mainland. I feel like I am taking my binoculars and looking at the mainland and reminiscing over what my life use to look like. I see all of you around me and it just reminds me of what I use to have. I see lives that go day to day concerned with community gossip, office politics, paying bills, and weekend plans. All the while I am stuck on an island of grief and despair with a huge black hole in my heart. I can see that you are trying to talk to me. I can’t hear you. I can’t hear what is being said while on this island. I am just too far away.

It is an overwhelming amount of loneliness. I am lonely in a crowded room. Yes, I see and am with those who love me, hurt for me, support me, encourage me, embrace me and those who walk away from me. And I have never felt so lonely in my life. No matter how much you want to understand this life on the island, you won’t be able to. Until heaven forbid, you are forced on the ferry boat.

Imagine someone you love is diagnosed with cancer. The doctor gives the patient options. “You can 1) take medications like chemo and radiation and fight it to the end or 2) let the disease take its course.” Everyone in this person’s life would have their opinion as to what they would do or suggest to this person. But, until you hear those words from your doctor and until you are faced to make those decisions in that moment, there is NO WAY you can possibly imagine what is best for that individual or what God has put in that person’s heart. In fact, I would be certain if you asked that same patient five years prior to being diagnosed what they would do in this situation, it would probably look a lot different than what they end up deciding.

Please don’t misunderstand me. On this island, there are days that are filled with laughter and joy. There are a handful of individuals who know my pain and I have felt so much comfort with them. I am also pretty sure this island is where Christ’s mercy, grace, and peace dwell. There is healing on this island, but this is not my home.

;

In His Grip.

Lindsey