Going Home To Get My Spiritual Bearings

Tomorrow is the first month’s anniversary of our son’s death.  In some ways, it seems like a year has gone by.  So much emotion has been packed into so short a time.  For the first several weeks, sleeping soundly was impossible.  I’m just now starting to catch up.  What better place to do it than to go home to my roots.

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Beloved Berkshire Mountains

While I live in Georgia and call that home, my roots are in New England in a little town called Petersburgh.  I am fortunate to be able to go back to my childhood home (my sister still lives there) and walk the grounds that overlook the river, and then go to bed in my old bedroom.

There’s something about going home that allows you to get your bearings.  I finally slept last night – all night – for a good 11 hours.  I’ve gotten out to drive all the back roads I love and it has given me much time for reflection and conversations with Jesus.

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Childhood Bedroom

There’s also something about going home to the heart of God that allows us to get our spiritual bearings.  He is the safe place.  He hushes our agitation.  He speaks into the void where emptiness eats away at the soul.  He puts all our questions to rest as faith believes that He is enough ~ even without answers.

I’ve printed out Hebrews 11:1 on an index card and have been living in it for the past four weeks.  Here it is in THE MESSAGE.  The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see.  The meaning of ‘getting my spiritual bearings’ is unwrapped in this scripture.  Trust in God is the firm foundation that makes life (even in the midst of tragedy) worth living.  Trust in God is my handle on what I can’t see.

Suicide leaves so many questions behind.  Haunting questions.  Most never know the answers to why someone took their own life.  While here in my childhood surroundings, spiritual rest is intermittent amidst the grief but it is there nonetheless.  My trust in God has not been shaken loose from its moorings.  He’s got me.  He’s got my son.  He’s got the answers.  For everything I cannot see, or know, I do know in whom I have believed.

1 Comment

  1. My heart aches for you, Christine. I have a son who lives daily in anxiety and depression and does not see any reason that this world is a place he wants to be. I hold onto the hope that Jesus gives me, knowing He loves my son far more than I do, and I trust Him to bring my son back to Him. Your words are an encouragement, as you speak them out of your faith and trust in the one true God, and out of your sorrow. I will pray for you.

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