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Saturday, April 2, 2011

The Sun will Rise Again.

Christen and I finally had the chance to get away for the first time since our son passed.  Our journey started at 4:15 a.m. driving to the airport in Pittsburgh.  It was a cold Pittsburgh night so both of us had on coats.  In mid afternoon, we arrived in a sizzling Florida heat and we quickly peeled off our outer layers. 

There are dozens of great aspects about our get away.  However, the thing I want to share with you all is not about the weather, the beach, or the palm trees. 
It is the journey of our healing process from our loss.

Christen and I both experienced a rush unexpected of emotion while away.  I think the reason is related to the fact that in Naples, Florida, there are no familiar places or faces, and for the very first time, we did not need to be strong. 

On the first day, we found ourselves standing on the white sandy beach, listening to the rolling waves, and watching the golden sun fall into its resting place.

As we stood there. 
We held one another. 
We never said a word...
But I knew that Christen was crying.  I was crying too, but in a different way. 
There was a lot being communicated in that moment.

 
Like:  
-Why us?
-I miss my son.
-We wouldn't even be standing here right now if he were alive.
-What would he look like?
-Would I be a good daddy?
-I wish Christen would be holding him now.


All of this was passing through my mind and my heart and I know that Christen had the same type of things running through hers.  When I finally took my eyes off of the sun and looked around. There were hundreds of people standing with cameras and camcorders...all there to see the glamorous ball of fire going to sleep for the night. 

I wondered to myself:  "What kind of hurt are they carrying around?"  or  "Is there someone here with a more excruciating loss than what me and my wife have endured?"

I don't know the answer to that.  I don't care to know.  But I can't help to think that me and my wife endured something truly painful.  Pain that journeys to a part of yourself that you did not even know existed before.

Later, when I talked to Christen, she agreed that she had not anticipated the feelings of emptiness and sorrow that was felt at the beach.

-As a husband, a father, a pastor and a Christian, I believe that my family is in the middle of something that we cannot understand.  And the place we find ourselves in is painful one. 
But I also know that the Lord uses these types of experiences to grow our faith. 
Like a root penetrating the earth, growing lean and strong, so is our faith. And believing that, I tell my precious wife that there will be better days ahead.



Like that sun setting before our eyes on that mid-day in Florida.
It will rise up again.

-So too, will we- 

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Anthony~~~May GOD BLESS you and Chris~~~!
Thank you, Dearhearts, for sharing this most PAINED experience.
~~~BELLA~~~

Anthony K said...

Thank you so much. We rely on the Grace of God.

Anonymous said...

You and Christen continue to amaze me with your strength. Thank you for opening your hearts and allowing us to share in this journey as I know God's hand is on your hearts. He is speaking through your words. Love you both, Florence.