There are days I want to visit a church where nobody knows me, so I could cry my heart out, laugh as old days, or pray frantically – all alone. Today was one of those days. Holiday is coming. I have no courage to go to my church where sisters and brothers celebrate the coming home of their children from college or work.
“Mom, you can check out the Saddleback Church at the high school across the street.” David said. “Remember the one opened during pandemic?”
That reminded me the very first church Joey and I went when we first moved to the country in the San Francisco Bay Area, the church services in the public school across the street of where we lived. I remember that was a sunny Sunday and I was curious about the colorful banners and balloons at the school. I thought it was a school carnival, so I walked in with Joey. It turned out to be a new church started by young people planters from Texas.
It was the first time Joey and I stepped into a church. It was the first time we knew Jesus and heard the gospel.
In the 3 years living in the bay area, that church became our family. We had bible study in the young pastor’s rented apartment. His name is Andy. I was amazed by these young people, their deep passion, confidence, perseverance, the talent of talking to new believers…This new church was the reason we continued to go to church when we moved to Florida.
So today I decided to visit the church at the school across the street of my neighborhood. I missed the days I went to church together with Joey, in that school across the street in the Bay Area.
I walked into the auditorium and the wordship started. It turned out to be a satellite church and the sermon was on screen, livestreaming from main church.
When the pastor appeared on the screen. I was appalled.
It was him. It was the same pastor, Andy Wood, who led me and Joey to the Lord, 18 years ago. It was the same pastor who mentored us, who witnessed our spiritual growth, who shared the memories of Joey. This young man, has become the lead pastor of Saddleback Church.
Tears rolled down my face, big drops to the floor. I had to cover my mouth with hand to hold back the cry.
How life was different after 18 years!
The once God-loving child is not on this earth any more.
A family is forever broken.
The entire world is turned upside down with the struggle to find a sense of purpose.
The parents feel guilty that my child was taken while we are still alive.
The deep sense of emptiness, loneliness, despair, and mourning for the lost future.
The mom pleading with God to end this level of suffering happening on the Earth once and for all.
I was crying through the entire sermon. The memories of Joey’s life in the Bay Area kept replaying in my mind. I was living through those moments again, each one tugging at heart.
When the sermon finished, people stood up and sang. I couldn’t stand up.
In the midst of overwhelming grief, I decided to simply sit in God’s presence, pulling myself to a sense of peace.
In two days will be the 10th year anniversary of Joey’s passing. I can’t believe I live a decade without him. The grief, sorrow, and sense of loss are often so profound, like today, that I can feel life itself has been shattered. What would come in the next 10 years?
I may continue seeking a deeper connection with Joey, which is through the work of Joey’s Wings.
I have to believe joy and sorrow can coexist, for the surviving family.
I have to embrace the mystery of God’s will. His ultimate plan is beyond my understanding, and He has a purpose.
I have to look for moments of peace and glimpses of hope. God’s healing doesn’t always look the way I expect, but He can gradually restore and renew the heart.
Today, as Thanksgiving is approaching, I celebrate Joey’s life and reflect on the joy he brought to us. As painful as it is, we are grateful for his 10 years of life on earth.
“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful”. Hebrews 10:23