“Are you ok?” I don’t know how to respond to a question I’ve been asked at many seasons of my life. Just like this February day caught between the warm rays of the sun and the cold wind that makes me zip my coat up. It is a season in life when you hold grief in one hand and gratitude in another. But, at that moment I feel nothing. Numb to the question; just numb to life in general.
My response to her is,”Are you ok?” She only tears up and stares at the gravestone. My name written in the middle of the engraving. Our son’s name etched before mine on the marker. Our family’s last name written at the end. Pictures of him on the front of the headstone. I wait longing for the picture to speak to me.
Just like the day I found him. I ran to my son the same as the prodigal’s father ran to him. My story changes from this familiar parable here. In this story, the son is no longer here. I hold him in my arms on that August day. The only cold that day was the warmth of life gone from my son. “Am I ok?” The only words I can say to God while cradling my son is,” Lord God, if this how You felt when You lost Your Son, we should be ashamed. “
Jus like the time when our son broke his arm. I cried there at the hospital for someone to please help me. “Please help my son.”
But laying in a ditch with him I shouted the same cry of hopelessness to everyone who passed by and just drove on. “Did they just walk by and just go about their day. Oblivious to the Son of God hanging on a cross by the roadway. Did you feel ok that day God? Or was your hear breaking like mine? Did your tears fall as rain to the ground? Were you angry? Or were you just numb?Did anyone in the courts of heaven ask you if you were ok?”
My mind stumbles to the hollow ground I stood on. Looking at row upon row of someone’s loved ones buried here in this sacred dirt. We both look at each other knowing that we are not ok.
I drop to the ground on my knees as I did that day I found him.
I remember stopping again at the chapel at the hospital where I wrestled with my faith as I watched my father’s life slip away slowly. Of the prayer I prayed that day. And I repeat it to my Heavenly Father again this same prayer.
“I didn’t come with lifted hands today. I’ve come with questions I can’t explain. Jesus, some nights I wrestle with the silence. Some days I barely say Your name. I’ve learned how to smile through the hurting. Learned how to stand when I’m afraid. But standing doesn’t mean I’m strong now. It means I only chose to stay. I don’t have the words you would hoped to hear. I don’t have the faith I used to claim. All I have is this one breath and I bring it just to say. Lord, I’m not okay but I’m still here calling out Your name. Still believing You can still hold me. Even when my strength has walked away. I don’t have the answers. I don’t see the road ahead. But I’m not okay, Lord. But I’m still here weeping at Your Holy feet.
I’ve watched the seasons change without me. Watched the world just keep moving on while I stayed frozen in a moment. Trying to be brave and strong. Some prayers don’t sound like hallelujahs. Some faith is quiet worn and thin. But even doubt can be a doorway……when You meet me where I am.
Lord I’m not okay but I’m still here…..still reaching through the pain…still trusting You can see me when I can’t see Hope again. I don’t need perfection….I just need Your nearness now.
I’m not okay, Lord. But I’m still here on my face needing You here.
If staying is my offering, then take this trembling heart. If breathing is my only prayer…please meet me where You are. I don’t need the healing yet. I don’t need the end made clear. I just need to know you’re still with me while I’m still here and they are there.
Lord,I’m not okay but I’m still here….held by unseen Grace still learning that Your mercy doesn’t leave when I’m unsaid. I’ll take one step, I’ll say Your name through every doubt and fear. I’m not okay, Lord.
And if tomorrow finds me stronger. I’ll remember this one truth….You stayed with me in the breaking and You carried me through…I’m still not okay, Lord but I’m still here and You held me is as I held my son, as my earthly father held me through the long night and whispered to me like I did to my son, as my dad whispered to me….it’s gonna be okay…cause I’m still here….”
Romans 8:26-27 says that the Spirit helps us in our weakness and intercedes for us with “groanings too deep for words” when we do not know how to pray. God, who searches hearts, understands these deep, wordless cries…..
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