Death has no sting.

Death stinks.  It comes with inevitable pain for the loss of those we love.  No one would choose that kind of pain. I have to ask myself, now that I've experienced death and pain in such an intimate way,  am I afraid of death?  Does death chase me around each corner? Do I run from it at all costs?

Parenting is one of the most nerve wracking jobs there is.  On the day that our children are placed into our arms most parents move into protector mode.  At all costs, we try and prevent pain and danger from entering our children's lives. Consequently, the role of "Protector" can place us in a position of constant fear and worry.

I learned early on that if I was going to enjoy parenting my two boys I was going to have to give up some of that fear and worry that came with parenting them.  As soon as they were old enough they were jumping off rocks, climbing mountains, zooming down ski hills and riding ridiculous mountain bike trails; they were part of their father after all.  So it has been a slow release of fear and control as I raised my boys.

Then Amanda came into our home at 16 1/2 and she came in with foundations already set; there was very little control I could claim.

Then Ryan died falling 100 feet in a climbing accident and I realized how little control I had over anything.  There was nothing I could have done to have prevented that event from happening.  I guess I could have never allowed Ryan to take up climbing while he lived under my roof, but he would have found some other way to express his need for adventure.  Limiting him would have been thwarting the person he was meant to be.  I did not want to be the kind of parent that shaped my kid's lives based on my own needs; "I don't want to live in fear so you, my child, will live safely and steer away from anything I deem dangerous."

Climbing is dangerous, much like many other activities in life. I was chatting with a friend and telling her that Luke just recently took up climbing again and that Amanda is a climber and Tom has even gotten back into it.  She looked at me with her big brown eyes with fear and astonishment and I knew what that look said. "Your son died in a climbing accident and you are letting the rest of your family climb?"  I responded, "Yes, it honestly doesn't bother me at all.  Climbing is not what killed Ryan.  God just simply said, "It is time."   It wouldn't have mattered what he was doing when it was his time.  So I have no fear of climbing."  My friend replied that of course that was how I felt, she knew I trusted God that completely.

This conversation has been mulling in my head since then.  I am so grateful that I can walk with so little fear and such a great deal of peace because I trust my Creator.  I trust what I read in his Word to me:

"To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven:

A time to be born, And a time to die;"  Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

 

 

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?

And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father."  Matthew 10:29

 

 

"Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139:16

 

 

No, climbing did not take Ryan's life.  The days that were formed for him were over.  God could do more with his death now than he could his life.  Of this I am very certain. 

 

Trusting the perspective that our days are numbered and that God knows our coming and our going allows me to walk in peace as I and those around me continue to walk out our lives.  It takes away that constant fear and need to control my environment.  Now that doesn't mean I'm not careful and encourage wisdom and discernment and wise counsel, but it does mean I trust God with the outcomes and the big picture.

 

I'm no theologian and I probably can't give a solid answer to some of the harder questions like suicide and murder.  My heart goes out to those who have had to deal with loss in those situations.  I recognize how different that kind of loss is.  But ultimately I think it still comes down to whether we believe God's Word or not.  Do we trust it even when what we see in front of us doesn't make sense and is excruciating? I chose to step into that kind of trust.

 

My journey is not painless because I have made a choice of trust.  I still have those moments of extreme loss and sorrow.  Moments where my heart just simply hurts.  But in that pain I have also experienced a depth of joy that has come from trusting my Savior and seeing the good that has come from the pain.  Lives have been altered, including mine. I could write a book on all the growth that I have seen in people's lives because of my son's death.

 

What if I hadn't allowed Ryan to climb?  What if I hadn't allowed him to become all that he was meant to be because of my own fears and need for control?  I have to wonder if we would be experiencing the same results if I had let my fear rule.  Would Ryan's life and death have had the same impact if he hadn't been allowed to live life with a big "L"?

 

No, I'm not afraid of death. It does not stalk me at every corner. I know where I'm going. I trust God completely with my life and the lives of those around me.  I pray that my life, and some day my death, simply benefit the Kingdom. 

 

Yes, sorrow comes with the sting of pain, and I cannot avoid it, but the threat of death holds no sting when I entrust my past, present and future to the one who formed me and holds my days in His hands.





"The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way". Psalm 37:23