Q&A

So much has happened since Silver Taps (click here for Silver Taps article on Ian) just a little over a week ago. For example a sermon on missional community (Bible Study), where we are to lean on each other for support during our life journey. And, boy, do Greg and I lean on the beautiful people in our Bible Study!  This week we talked about lots of silly fun things and we talked about Ian and choices, about adoption and about heaven and sorrow. There was also a sermon on the gospel and how to live as God's poem in the time we have (click here for excellent sermon: Gospel & Community).

Those of us who are left behind, not like the book series Left Behind, but left behind when someone whose such an integral part of your world leaves such a gaping void that is truly indescribable,  in vain we look for answers to questions that will not be answered on this side of Heaven. They will only be answered once we truly go Home....not that any answer would change how we feel. Truly it's difficult, even impossible, to believe any answer would alleviate our sorrow, yet, the questions are still there. 

Questions like why didn't Ian pull over? Why was there a bus in that exact location? Why me? Why me after so much in my life has already been difficult does the rest of it have to be sad? Why do our most fervent prayers go unanswered? 

So here are some of my "answers" after the sermon series and Bible Study that may change as time passes because we cannot be certain (yet). 

I don't think the reason Ian did not pull over that day was because he believed he was indestructible as most 19-year-olds think they are. I don't think he pulled over that day because he had no fear of dying. He was not a daredevil, but he also wasn't scared of losing his life. He was secure in who he was and lived life to the fullest. He lived his life as Caylea so aptly pointed out 19 hours (huh, 19 hours...) after his Homecoming as though he were ready (Luke 12:35-48). Not a daredevil, not overly cautious, just without fear because he was ready. 

So why me? After so much in my life has already been difficult why does the rest of it have to be tinged with sadness and heartache? Flip, the one true answer leads to another question: "Why not me?" Who am I that I should not suffer if Jesus was willing to suffer for me. 

And, Lord, why not me, instead of Ian? The answer to that question seems to be that if Ian was ready and fulfilled his purpose here, I have not. Since his passing, believe me when I say I am ready! But, in all honesty, do I live that out? Clearly I have not completed my purpose here. Most days I even wonder what it is. I was reminded at the Austin Stone on Sunday to live out the Gospel as though I'm God's poem, not a seat warmer on Sunday mornings. 

Why do some of my prayers go unanswered, especially those on April 19th? I prayed from the bottom of my soul out through the top of my lungs that afternoon that my child be spared. I prayed and begged God. Begged. Pleaded. And begged more. And, in the end, before we ever even talked to the Trooper I knew the answer to my question. I knew my prayers were in vain, yet I still had to ask. I still had to ask. It's not fair to say God didn't answer my prayer. He did. I just didn't, don't and won't ever, at least here on earth, like His answer. People have actually said I cannot be mad at God. Well, I can prove otherwise. Just ask Him. 

And it's always so odd to me that others feel they know the answers! Many people in trying to provide comfort have said "he's in a better place" and "he wouldn't come home if he could." Duh. I'm not that naive. I know my child is in a better place. These aren't answers to the questions I have and they bring little comfort reminding me what I already know because the comfort I long for is my child's smile, the warmth of his hugs and the non stop chattiness in my now very quiet world. You don't have the answers any more than I do. I know you want to help and be a comfort, so cry with me, hug me, tell me stories about my son and know its okay not to have the answers. 

But, from a conversation this week in Bible Study, I began to wonder (yes, in vain, tried to find another answer) if Ian had been given the choice at the moment of impact to survive and stay here on earth for another 70 years or to go be with Jesus in person for all eternity which would he choose? 

If you knew Ian and the compassion and empathy that is in his heart it would seem he would instantly answer that he would stay here. He would never intentionally cause so many people grief and sadness, especially his momma! It seems he would stay simply so he could keep on loving people. 

But that conversation challenged me to really consider this question of choice. Challenged me, because Ian loved God first and foremost and that for him it would most likely not even be a choice.  Christ, for Ian, would be the only choice. (MercyMe sings it - Finally Home).

Truth be told, once we turn to Jesus we are adopted as sons and daughters. Ian went Home. I keep saying that, but he really did. He left his temporary home to go to his real Home. The one he was chosen by God, in God's perfect timing (clearly not mine) to join. He was invited by the Holy of holies to enter Glory! 

Heaven. What must it be like? Walking hand-in-hand with the creator of the universe as a full time worshipper, getting all your questions answered--questions that are now burning in me. I would want Ian to choose here. The mom in me wants him to choose based on my selfish desires for grand-babies and daughter-in-laws, well one daughter-in-law, and to watch Ian growing and learning and being. I want him here to fill this big gaping void in my heart and in my mind.  

But God, ever so gently,  keeps whispering in my soul - Ian would have made the better choice, the only choice, to come Home. 

While I wait to go Home I pray that others can lean on me, that I live like a child adopted by the King, like His poem, living out the Gospel in my life just as everyday since Ian's Homecoming has been proof that's what he did. May I be ready. 

"Homesick" by MercyMe