God Weeps

“God Weeps”

 

“God shall wipe all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”

                        -Revelations 21:4

           

This past week has been long and full of pain and sorrow but also beauty and overwhelming love and acts of kindness.  My closest friend lost his son and I’ve had a ring-side seat to his progression through grief thus far and asked if I could write about it on the blog. I wanted to capture it for many reasons, not the least of which has been because Brendan’s anger turned so quickly into a sort of acceptance about the death of his first-born that I am in awe.

Brendan is a friend of mine from recovery.  We met at our home group and have grown very close over the past eighteen months or so.  We often laugh about how we would never have met in our former lives and if you saw the two of us together and knew anything about our respective lives before recovery you would say, “Wait, what?  Really?”  But we get along so well and talk daily about any and everything.  He has become a staple in my life and I in his.

His eldest son, also named Brendan, had struggled with addiction for the past ten years or so.  He had been in and out of rehab countless times and had last gone to rehab and then a recovery house in California a few months ago.  Brendan and I had dinner a week ago Thursday and one of the main topics of conversation was young Brendan, because it appeared he had relapsed and no one was sure where he was or how he was doing.  What his father told me he feared that night would happen to his son, did indeed happen a mere two days later.

As most of you know, Frank and I lost our eldest son, Liam, fifteen years ago.  Liam was only 68-days old when he died.  Brendan was 29-years old and the circumstances are very different for sure, but a parent should never lose a child under any.  Frank had cancer at the time and was just at the onset of his treatments at the time of Liam’s birth and then subsequent death.  Brendan also has cancer and had to go from finding out his son was deceased on Saturday to his first round of radiation on Monday.  I remember thinking fifteen years ago, “how much more can one man take?” and here I am thinking the same again.  I said to Frank on Sunday about Brendan, “I don’t think I have ever seen anyone look so broken before…  Actually, yes I have.”

Losing a child is a pain all its own.  I don’t mean you win some sort of prize for one-upmanship of anguish or anything, but it’s just so outside the natural progression of things.  In terms of categories of grief it is an agony that so should not be.  It is a special kind of hell and I would not wish it on someone I hate let alone someone that I have come to love so much. 

On Monday last, Brendan managed to go to our home group with one of his other sons.  He spoke about his anger.  He was angry at God then that his son was gone.  He wondered if his son knew he was loved and questioned if he had done enough to show him that.  Throughout the week he wrestled with his thoughts and emotions and some of the conversations turned and he told me a number of times that he believes “God weeps” for man and then told me this directly and I had to relay it because it is so powerful:

 

“God give man the gift of free will and when man uses that free will to hurt himself or others, He weeps.  God looked at Brendan as he tried to stop the ‘noise’, as he drew every breath of duster, as his heart broke because he just didn’t know how to stop; God said ‘Enough suffering my child’ as he pulled Brendan into His arms of incomprehensible love… and stopped the noise.”

 

I don’t think he’s angry anymore, or at least less so.  I am amazed at the way he was able to work through his emotions this week and get to a place of relative peace.  He keeps saying he is grateful for all the love and support he and his family have been shown and he knows that his son must see that now.

I only met young Brendan a handful of times so unfortunately I did not get to know him.  But from being around his family this week and knowing his father the way that I do, I would say he is far more than the circumstances of his death.  He is remembered so fondly by his parents and brothers and his Aunt and cousins.  He has two beautiful, curly-haired daughters who I hope will learn about the positive impact he had on all the people I have seen reach out over the past week.  If he was anything like his father he was a beautiful human being.

 

There is certainly a lot of ugly in this world, but there is also a lot of beauty and that has poured forth and embraced Brendan’s family this week.  God weeps for us here on earth but I like to think that wherever young Brendan and Liam are now, there is precious little to weep about anymore.