"I'm sorry....I am about to cry..." I whispered audible enough for my husband, my son and my husband's friend(I will call "T") visiting from another country to hear. I choked up, wanting to release a few words from my mouth that seemed to be blocked by my heart feeling the pain from another person's difficult loss.
My husband and his friend...They used to work together many years ago. They were communicating before despite the thousands of oceans between them. Then, we moved into another house. We didn't know. He also moved into another job. Those changes separated them and made them lose their contact. As seasons changed, as our children grew up, as we had transition from our youth to added years of adulthood...time slipped like sand...
T. knew some of our relatives, us, being from the same hometown. He got hold of my husband by sending a text. So, my husband, excitedly invited him to our house. He accepted. But in that short communication, he tried to explain. He would not be with his wife. Fighting back tears, he told my husband...She passed away. Few months ago. From cancer. And that was why he came here to another country. Trying to be strong, he wanted his only child just to breathe a different air. Out of all the pain they both had to go through. They wanted to remain strong. And to find healing.
In front of me, despite us meeting for the first time, he narrated all the wounds that opened up and the difficult road he walked on. Especially his wife. And son. As tears welled up in my eyes, I prayed silently in my mind. For God's help to help us with our words to T.
(For God always comforts us first....so we can comfort others)...
I let the tears flow. My son, despite being young, let his tears flow. Without embarrassment, he shared the pain he felt, too. All of us were crying.
"I am very sorry. That we were never there during that time. But I know it's never too late. To offer you, T, our help. If there's anything that we can be of help, please don't hesitate to let us know."
He nodded his head. As if that was his way of saying "Thanks". No words came out as he stared at my son openly crying, too in front of him who he met just an hour prior to that.
"I wish my son will do that. I wish he will show his emotions, too like you Kristian," he uttered.
"Because I know crying is good. It could be healing," he added.
My husband and I explained...That growing up we always included our son in everything. Letting him know of all the steps we were taking. Whether it was a step that led to victory. Or to loss. We reassured him that "crying was not a sign of weakness." As we walked on many roads of life's uncertainty.
"Ahhh..." we all sighed. As those pent up emotions were released, we remembered some memories. And how we laughed at some. Crying. Laughing. Together. It could be healing.
"I will probably come back here in December," T. teased us.
"Anytime..."my hubby and I said as we said our goodbyes and hugged each other.
"Thanks be to God," I uttered loudly on purpose.
"For our time together."
It was good to send him off with a smile on his face. What a contrary to when he first arrived upon stepping on our worn out welcome mat. Indeed, my family and I felt that big wound in his heart. But as he left, I prayed. That he would hide instead his wound and painful loss in Christ's wounds. That was a sure way of finding healing. For in Christ's wounds, "we are healed."
He was wounded for our rebellious acts. He was crushed for our sins. He was punished so that we could have peace, and we received healing from his wounds.- Isaiah 53:5 (GWT)
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