I consider the grief of the Blessed Virgin
I have been praying for a dear one whose child died some years ago.
It is a terrible thing for a parent to lose a child to death.
When my youngest son died before he was even born, I felt so much grief. I felt that it was such a terrible terrible waste for that child to be lost to me from this life. It took me many many years to understand that in fact my child was not lost to me, but that he had gained eternal life and that I merely have to ask for the patience to endure in this life so that I can see him in the next life – through God’s own Grace.
And I could see his face, and feel his skin. I could know the sound of his voice, and I know how old he would be and what class he would be in at school now. I can image the cheeky smiles and the naughty behaviour. I can image the arguments and the teaching. I know how I would have taught him his timetables, and how I would have convinced him to learn to play the piano. I know how I would have coordinated him with his older siblings.
And – though he was never born and I was unable to hold him in my arms - my heart speaks to him and he is as real to me as you are sitting there and reading this piece of writing right now.
Now, since my conversion, which happened through Grace and no merit of my own, God has allowed me to realise – with supernatural Wisdom – that my son is waiting for me in Heaven and that he is saved and my own little patron saint. And because I now know this, I do not continue to mourn for the Earthly life that could never be for him, because now I can accept that God had a superior plan to my own and that this life is fleeting.
But as I pray for myself, I pray for all the mothers and fathers and grandparents and uncles and aunts and siblings who have lost a child in their families… For the grief is truly difficult to bear. And I have to ask myself – where is God in this? Where is He in this moment of such sadness…
And I have come to realise – that through the sorrows of the Blessed Virgin, God is right there in the midst of things. Just as the Blessed Virgin buried her Son, so too do we. Just as the Blessed Virgin mourned alone and in poverty at the affronts to her Son and to God the Holy Trinity, so too should we.
And today, as I consider the grief of the Blessed Virgin, my eyes are drawn upwards to Heaven. For it is there that she remains – after all the grief. And it is there that I too, wish to go – after al the grief. Because she went there first…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.
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