The Other Side of Goodbye

Couldn't quite figure out why I've felt so grumpy lately.  I mean, I have no reason at all for any emotion short of pure joy. Everything has been working in our favor, it seems, and life is just so darn good, all glory to God. Our family is happy and healthy. Our adoption process is moving right along. And the Lord's abundance has surely shown up for us in the way of financial provision for our adoption.

But something has been gnawing at my heart. 

I worked in the kitchen this weekend, tidying up senseless details around the house, examining every negative thought and feeling, and then, suddenly, it emerged from my subconsciousness.

He died. And on May 30th, he's going to die all over again. 

We relive it each year, yet somehow it seems to get buried into the depths of our hearts and minds as we keep busy, though we know the day and time is closing in on us again.

Early Sunday morning, we attended a Mass given by a young Priest from the Seminary.  This man--this Holy man and a visitor to our Parish that morning--fed me the precise homily that my heart needed to hear.

He spoke, as the Feast of Ascension and Pentecost approach us, about New Life as a result of Jesus bearing His burden on the cross and giving His life for ours.

He talked about the mystery of "the other side of goodbye."

He shared the mystery of how God takes those experiences--those goodbyes--and shapes us through them. We all have them, but goodbyes take on different form and meaning in each of our lives. For some, it might be a departure to a new season of life, or a major change. For others, it's the physical loss of a loved one. He proclaimed that what happens as a result of "the other side of goodbye" is New Life. The resurrection and the promises of God are too strong to have it any other way.

I suppose I don't have to tell you what my "goodbye" was all about. And as this Priest sermoned about how the relationships are still there, just different, I felt joy in my heart. As usual, tears came, and I couldn't help but marvel, in all humility, at how God's stretched me in four years time. Because I know exactly what's taken place on the other side of my goodbye...

--a memoir of Daniel written with all of my heart poured into it, designed to help those who grieve, to help those who are called to adopt, and created to share a testimony of God's grace during the unimaginable.

--a much stronger love, in my heart, for the orphan. Our desire to help the least of these has only deepened, and through those depths, we strive to to make a difference in our son's memory.

--Charlie. Charlie Murphy. Would we have this crazy boy to love if not for Daniel?

--Joseph. Joseph Holt. He seems like just a dream to us now. We can only imagine what blessings will be born from answering this call. We hope and pray that love can pave a road to happiness and peace on the other side of his goodbye from all that he's familiar with. 

--a deeper faith. Perhaps this should've been first on my list. I am so thankful for the grace the Lord's given me on the other side of goodbye. I am so eternally grateful that He's cradled me in His arms to get me through the painful days. My faith has strengthened in this process. I'm so blessed that's He's shown me such goodness on the other side of my goodbye.

And when I think about what's on the other side of Daniel's goodbye, it's ALL good. He's in the best place ever.  I cling to that.

So, what's your goodbye?

Maybe it's time take an inventory of the New Life on the other side...