Don’t get me wrong; I don’t have a death wish, and I’m not unhappy with my life. It’s just that in the days leading up to Easter, grief hit me in the gut like a sucker-punch.

It hasn’t even been three months since Nathan died, yet sometimes I think of him in heaven and an unexpected wave of some feeling very much akin to jealousy tumbles over me. As Christians, we are taught – and our faith is based on this fact – that we have the hope of eternal life with Christ after death. What an amazing, brain-boggling concept, when you really think about it! The Bible says that to be apart from the body is to be alive with Christ (Romans 8:10-11).

Maybe it’s the big sister in me … that part that says it’s not fair for my little brother to get to see the good part before me! I know that’s probably silly, but I’m just being honest.

As I was pressing through my grief this past week and trying to shrug off the invisible weight on my eyebrows that seemed to want to squeeze out tears every time I blinked, I listened to praise music. Of course, being the week before Easter, the local Christian radio station pulled out all the punches with songs of hope and rejoicing and longing fulfilled in Christ. I wanted to wallow a while in self-pity; instead, I was confronted with Truth. Yes, Nathan got there first. But I can’t ignore the other fact: there’s still plenty of work yet to do here. Hopefully I still have several decades to live, and I know that God can use my time here to teach me, mold me, use me … until it is time to take me Home, too.

There were at least two or three songs at church this morning on the theme of “waiting.” I don’t know about you, but waiting is not my strong suit; I’d rather being *doing* and seeing results.

I enjoy writing because it’s concrete and allows me to see my thoughts unfolding, literally. I love my job, and one of the biggest things I enjoy about it is seeing the tangible results of my efforts on paper. I have fun building virtual objects in Second Life because I can take ideas from my head and create them right before my eyes! I love being a parent and witnessing those “lightbulb moments” in my boys’ lives. I like working with tools (shhh – don’t tell my husb, or he’ll never volunteer to fix anything ever again! lol) because I have the satisfaction of seeing something broken become workable again.

Waiting … for the unknown, for the seemingly inevitable Murphy’s Law, for God’s sweeping intervention, for things to happen out of my control, to have to rely on someone else’s decision-making … is much more difficult.

We planted a garden this weekend — actually, two gardens — a vegetable garden in the backyard and a flower garden in the front yard. As we were reading the seed packets to learn how long each plant would take to mature, we noticed that they varied dramatically. To the unseasoned gardener like myself, I couldn’t tell one seed from another, much less be able to guess which ones would mature first.

Aren’t my trials like that?? I look at how lonnnnng things seem to be taking to resolve after my brother’s death, and it seems like eons, yet tomorrow will only be two months. There are things I want to fix, push along, get moving, take care of … yet, they are out of my control. Just as I am completely and utterly incapable of making plants grow, I have to wait and watch expectantly as other areas in my life take root and mature.

(There’s a sermon in there somewhere!) I can’t force the plants to grow, but if I neglect to water and fertilize them, I can be sure to thwart their growth or kill them all together. Ouch! Does that mean that I have to continue praying for this person I don’t like WHILE I wait for God to develop in me wisdom, maturity and a forgiving spirit? I have to admit, I think the answer is a resounding Yes.

Some of the most poignant moments of this horrible and astonishing journey these past 7 ½ weeks have been the stories that other people have confided in me: accounts of tragic loss, sometimes relatively expected, yet always life-changing.

People I’ve known for years professionally have opened up to tell me personal stories about losing a sibling or other close family member – sometimes decades ago as a child. Yesterday, someone I dearly respect and regard as a mentor shared some details about a father’s struggle with alcoholism and how the addiction ultimately killed him. It is easy to lapse into a circumstantial perspective when you are dealing with an addict – their good days translate into your good days … their bad days seem to bleed the life out of your happiness. How true that is, and what a trap we allow ourselves to be ensnared within!

I have tried to be better about praying for someone in particular – someone whose poor decisions, shady past, erratic behavior and addictive patterns make it very, very easy to dislike her. When she is agreeable, I can actually feel my stress level decline. When she acts combative, my internal defenses arm themselves. It is a battle to pray for her, yet I know I must … and my prayers need to be sincere. Sometimes, I don’t know how to pray at all and just repeat back to God qualities of himself – that he is just, righteous, worthy of my praise, his mercies are new every morning, and he is not the author of confusion.

Ironically, our small group study this week from Stormie Omartian’s book, “7 Prayers That Will Change Your Life Forever” was on the topic of Submission [to God’s will], and a key emphasis in the chapter was not letting circumstances steer our hearts; rather, trust God. Ouch! The author made reference to accepting Christ into the home of her heart and offering him the guest room. That is the polite thing to do, right? Well, no … not if he is to be Lord of your whole life. Persistently, Jesus knocked on other doors, and slowly she began to open those unseemly areas of her life to his will.

This chapter made me think about all the times I’ve prayed, “God, I trust you, but …”

Whatever the “but …” happens to be, I have to confess it and remember that my hope/rest/security is in Christ alone.