Although I know that I am not the blessed controller of all things, sometimes it takes a personal tragedy to move this truth from a heady concept to reality. When given the opportunity to examine our catastrophes closely, we might be surprised by what we discover.

  Something New?

The largest, most anguishing  mental and emotional experiences I’ve encountered so far in life have been two deaths; my dad’s suicide and the loss of our infant son, Elliott. At the time, neither of those deaths made any sense to me. 

 Attempting to attach meaning to the sad events in our lives is natural. We want there to be an explainable reason. Of course, our first question is usually, “Why? Why did this happen?” But that one, especially with suicide, can never be answered this side of heaven. In the case of our infant son’s death, there was a medical cause; a knot in the umbilical cord tightened just days before his birth. Still, I wondered why the knot had formed.

The second question that may arise in our minds might be, “Was there something I could have done to prevent it?” 

When a loved one ends their own life, this question, if we let it, can haunt us for the rest of our lives. In the case of our infant son, my doctor assured me there was nothing I could have done. But, it took quite some time for me to believe him.

The unanswerable questions can leave us with an array of discomforting feelings such as hopelessness, helplessness, and confusion. How then are we to make sense of the nonsensical? 

If we can’t give a reason for agony, then agony tends to grow into bitterness. I’ve dabbled in the cesspool of bitterness before. Resentment, grudges, indignation, and hostility are ugly and smelly. A scowling face, and cutting words create a caustic atmosphere around us that no one wants to enter. 

Bitterness is difficult for anyone and everyone to be around. Is there a cure? Yes, but not the same one for everyone. Healing from our losses and bitterness can take a long time, but healing is possible.

For instance, some time had passed since we’d buried our son and I remember having a conversation with a friend. They saw that I was stuck in a pattern of causticity, peevishness and edginess. Their words to me were kind and at the same time honest and true. They warned me of the dangers of bitterness and though their words were hard to digest, I agreed with them and heeded their warning. I had to alter my thinking. 

So, instead of continuing to ask why or attempting to find a reason for my agony, I asked a different question. “What am I supposed to learn from my loss?” Asking a different question put me into a different place with my grief. I was no longer demanding any answers, or a reason, I was simply waiting to understand. And while waiting to understand, something new occurred to me. The heady concept that I am not sovereign shifted to a reality in my life.  

Why bother making sense of tragedies? When we take the necessary time to consider there might be something new to learn in the midst of our pain, we may be pleasantly surprised.