A Certain Hope: 15 Years Since Micah's Homegoing

Many of us face tremendous uncertainty in various areas of life:

 

Uncertainty about our professional future or our finances;

Uncertainty about whether (or when) our country might fall apart;

Uncertainty about our health or relationships.

 

I was encouraged recently to remember that the Greek word used by Paul for “Hope” (“Elpis”) is actually better translated as "confident expectation."  Elpis implies that something is going to happen, and the subject is anticipating it with confidence. Rather than “hoping” that the promises of God might possibly come to pass, we can trust that even as we grieve tremendous loss, we grieve in certainty.  We can be certain in the redemption of all things, including our most difficult sufferings.  We can be certain that the God that spoke the entire universe into being by His words promises that we who mourn will be blessed (Matthew 4); that our sufferings bring Glory to God because they demonstrate God’s power (2 Corinthians 4), and that it will, somehow, someday, be ultimately for the good of those who love Him (Revelation 8:28). 

There are over 50 uses in the New Testament of “hope” (Elpis).  While we might be uncertain about our circumstances, we can be certain in all that God has promised for us in and through his son, Jesus Christ.   Romans 15:13 reads “May the God of confident expectation fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with confident expectation by the power of the Holy Spirit.” 

Thanks, friends, for your encouragement to us as we mark 15 years since Micah’s homegoing.

Thirteen Years

 Thirteen Years today since Micah went ahead of us into eternity.   Our lives are far more bearable today than in the past 13 years.  We are very blessed with three great living kids, a nice house, and jobs that seem to pay enough to put enough food on the table and even in the dog dish.

But we are not alone when we say with certainty that no amount of pleasant earthly circumstances can completely salve the wounds we experienced on July 27, 2009.  Whether you are a fellow bereaved parent like me, or someone who has already endured another form of significant suffering, you know just how deep human grief and suffering can travel into the depths of your soul.  Our lives were meant for eternity and for God, and significant suffering provides us with the blessing of knowing that nothing on this side of eternity can fill the void that only God can fill.  

On this 13^th anniversary of Micah’s death, we are again reminded of that which is our sole solace and hope, which is the redemption of all things, for all time, for all beings, for our good, and to God’s glory, when Jesus comes back to take us His bride to Heaven. "No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined what God has prepared for those who love him."  1 Corinthians 2:9.  Hope for the Mourning is not ultimately found not in this world, but the next. 

Twelve Years: High Expectations of Heaven

“Under-promise and over-deliver.”  With the guidance of mentors, I have tried to implement this business proverb into my law practice.  But what of those who don’t seem to mind over-promising?  Are we willing to rely upon their boasts?  When it comes to faith, are we willing to take a chance on God, even though many of us have been abused by the unmet promises of salesman whose follow-up mantra is, “buyer beware,” and “all sales final.” 

Today, July 27^th, marks the 12^th anniversary of the death of our oldest son Micah.  As we mark yet another year without him, a friend and fellow grieving dad and I recently contemplated how we would interact with our deceased sons once we see them again in heaven.  Specially, how will they appear to us?  Will our sons appear the age of when they died on earth, or the age that they would be now, on earth, if they had not died?  More generally, will we even recognize our son?  What information will they already have, and what will we need to catch them up on?

I have low expectations for the coffee I (rarely) buy at a gas station.  I try to keep my expectations reasonable when it comes to my kids’ behavior, school and sport performance.  I am a relatively easy-to-please consumer.  The “cost” to me of these expectations is relatively low, because I did not give up much in return.  I have not staked my life satisfaction on these expectations.  But when it comes to my expectations for the results of significant suffering, such as the death of my son, I have extremely high expectations.

God makes audacious claims for those who stick it out in faithfulness to him and remain faithful to the end.  God has promised an eternity to us, his faithful children, that is currently uncontemplated for even the most imaginative of human minds.  In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, “No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.”   1 Corinthians 2:9. 

In Revelation 21:3-6, we read about Jesus’ bold, unmatched claims, claims that will either lead to us being the most pitiable of all mean for trusting in His promises, or be met in unspeakable glory for their grand fulfillment.  “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.  He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself with be with them as their God.  He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.  And he who was seated on the throne said, Behold, I am making all things new….to the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. ”

In Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s novel, Brothers Karamazov, the main character Ivan Karamazov, attempts to make sense of suffering.  About the end result of our suffering, we says, “I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage….that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood that they’ve shed; that is will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened.”

I expect that in the world’s finale we will not have a collective memory purge of our sufferings, but a full recognition of the meaning and purposes of our sufferings.  God’s “making all things new” will show us the meaning to our deepest sufferings, such deep and profound meaning that each and every one of us will be glad for how God worked through suffering.  We will see how God has so orchestrated all of human existence, between human relationships and events, across thousands and thousands of years, that our suffering will turn out for God’s glory and our good.

If I were to die now, I imagine a game of baseball catch with my 13-year old son.  We would play under the shade of the cherry tree we planted in Minneapolis the summer after he died, having full knowledge of the pain that his death caused us, but by reason of the demonstrated goodness of God, knowing that God’s redemptive purposes made the pain worthwhile.  While we have wept a thousand times for our Micah, we shall live ten thousand times ten thousand years together in eternity.     

And not just us, but all of us can live in high expectations of God’s redemptive purposes.  Each of us will say, about our individual and collective sufferings, “Yes, it was worth it all, in the end.” Our losses during a finite lifespan will ultimately be viewed like finite drops of water in an infinite ocean.  How much more significant are the relationships forged through the fire of affliction in contrast to a few years of life lived in relative ease.  I fully expect that God will over-deliver on His promises, even with such audacious claims.

Our Weakness As Godly Gain

 On this Easter, I have been reflecting on how the nature of our “topsy-turvey,” upside-down, inside-out, role-reversed faith.  At Easter, we revel in the fact that we are not saved by our own good acts, the length of our lives, or the wealth we accumulate or give away.  Instead, we stand in complete and utter dependence on Jesus’ physical death and physical resurrection more than 2,000 years ago.  Our hope is inextricably tied to the power of the Resurrection of Jesus. 

In 1 Corinthians 1:27, Paul writes,

“God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.  And because of him who are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

Many of us who lost children in infancy or youth struggle with understanding God’s purposes and the child’s ongoing legacy.  So many of us wanted a different legacy for our children.  But the great role reversal of the Christian faith is that we have every assurance that the eternal destiny and legacy of those who are saved by Christ is secure by reason of Jesus’ work for us.  Jesus is my wisdom, my righteousness, my redemption, just as Jesus is Micah’s wisdom, righteousness, and redemption. 

To the degree that we can “boast,” or take pride in, our own achievements, we have the tendency to focus our thoughts and efforts on those tasks.  But if we are weak in the eyes of the world – if we are sick, sad, stupid, disheveled, and poor--we remove some of our natural inclinations towards making much of ourselves.  When you feel week in the eyes of the world, how does that magnify God?  To the degree that we spend little to no focus on our own merits and efforts to merit attention, we magnify God’s good name.  In some sense, then, I must align my own legacy in humility to be the same as my first born and now deceased son Micah’s legacy.   On this Easter, we do well to align our true subjective hope with the objective reality of the Resurrected and Risen Lord. 

 

11th Anniversary of Micah's Homegoing

Today marks the 11^th anniversary of Micah’s sudden death on July 27, 2009.  Without a doubt, we miss Micah’s presence with our family.  We wonder how each of Owen, Brendan and Kinsley would have benefitted from having an older brother.  Both our kitchen table and our dining room table have room for six, and so we are always sitting with that one empty chair—a thrice daily reminder of the weight of the loss we have endured. 

On this 11^th anniversary of Micah’s unexpected death, Heather and I have also felt the weight of the continued outpouring of the love and support from our family and friends.  We marvel at the time and personal expense absorbed by those who have taken the time to write, call or meet us in order to support us in our grief.  We are amazed at the generosity of friends and even acquaintances who have given so generously to Hope for the Mourning so that the ministry can reach out to fellow grieving parents.  We glad to report that our work days were very unproductive by reason of all the emails, texts and calls we received. 

Again on this anniversary, we thank the Lord again for these fellow grieving couples who showed us God’s love, even through their own brokenness in grief.  To paraphrase and apply the words of encouragement from Paul in 2 Corinthians 4, our friends are, in their sacrifices to us, “carrying in their bodies the death of Jesus,” so that the life of Jesus might be displayed in the lives of Cory and Heather Wessman.” 2 Corinthians 4: 11.  These friends have taken it upon themselves to absorb a cost of some kind on our behalf, whether emotional, physical, time or financial, so that we can be encouraged.  It is our prayer that, in some small way, we can take on that same “death” in our own bodies. 

Earlier today, about fifty of our friends showed us this sacrifice in very tangible terms.  Beginning at 5:30 am this morning, we conducted our third annual “Hills for Hope” challenge.  Each of the participants agreed (yes, of their own free choice!) to complete an obstacle course that entailed:

1.       Running straight up the “Bigfoot” Ski Run at Hyland Hills ski area, then back down;

2.       Completing 10 burpees, 20 pushups and 30 situps;

3.       Repeating 1 and 2 as many times as possible (one “loop”) over 90 minutes!

The participants pledged a “poor loop” pledge.  With a total of 334.5 loops completed, our team was able to raise $12,919 for Hope for the Mourning!

These friends quite literally carried pain and weakness in their bodies for 90 minutes (well, and for an indeterminate number of days following today’s event) in order to allow the life of Jesus to be displayed in others. Just as others have used their own sufferings to bless us in our own grief journey, these friends suffered in a physical and financial sense, in order to encourage us and others.  Thanks, friends, for carrying the cost in our bodies, in order that we might experience the love of Christ in our own lives, and pass along that love to others through Hope for the Mourning.

A "COVID-19" Easter Saturday

We live in unprecedented times.  Our schools, jobs, and churches are all physically closed.  Our family members are sick and might even be dying, with no help on the immediate horizon for a vaccine for the COVID-19 coronavirus.  Many of us have lost jobs or, if we have not lost our job, have taken pay cuts and are forced to work from home.  There, we try to keep our careers afloat while also trying to manage the education of our children under less than ideal learning environments.

We are experiencing, to a lesser extent, what the disciples felt on that “Easter Saturday.”  Six days prior, their long-awaited savior had entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to the accolades of the Jewish onlookers, those who hoped in Jesus as their long-awaited political savior.  In the span of a few short days, all of the hopes of those closest to Jesus were dashed.   We might try to imagine just how devastated those disciples felt that Saturday.  They put all their “eggs in one basket” and, when their Savior breathed his last breath on that dark Friday afternoon, they felt like they lost everything.  With the benefit of scripture and history, we can see how much the disciples “missed” when it came to the prophecies of Jesus’s resurrection, both from the Old Testament prophets as well as Jesus himself.  Yet we are similarly caught in the historical moment, grieving the loss of what we had assumed to be ours; certain, or at least predictable, outcomes for our family, our careers, and our finances. 

In these most difficult of times, God calls us to trust him for the health of our family, for our career and finances and even the educational outcomes of our kids.  We must trust him for the fact the He will provide, even though we can’t presently see how He will provide.  The Bible says that God’s riches and wisdom are so deep, that his judgements are “unsearchable” and that his ways are beyond “tracing out.”  Romans 11:33.  While we won’t understand all of God’s ways, that does not mean that there are not good and noble purposes being achieved through our present circumstances. 

In the book of Job, we see a righteous man lose it all--his family, his fortune, and even his health.   Job expresses his grievances against God for God’s plan, a plan that while we can see through the Biblical narrative, Job was never granted access to.  As God came to Job in the whirlwind, God reminded Job to whom it was, precisely, that Job was airing his grievances.  None of us built the universe, including its gravitational forces, all living beings therein, and even the corona virus itself.  We cannot see how time and space interact; we cannot see the end from the beginning.  (Job 38-41).  While God ultimately provided Job another family, his fortune and his health, he was never given access to God’s plan for his life.

Since we are within time and space, we can not be so presumptuous as to believe that we know the outcome of our present difficulties. Should not the COVID-19 crises alert us to the very dependency on God that our life circumstanced had heretofore masked?  Is it possible that God wants to do something through our professional and family life to achieve an outcome more eternally significant than the outcome we planned for ourselves and our family?

Earlier today, we made our annual “easter weekend” visit to Micah’s cemetery.  There, we talked to our living kids about death, grief, and what it might mean to be resurrected when Christ comes again.  Certainly, these precious  gospel opportunities might have been created through other means had Micah not died.  But if any one of our living child’s faith journey, or anyone else’s faith journey, has been positively impacted by the story of our deceased Micah,  it will redound to God’s glory in orchestrating such an outcome through Micah’s death.  We live in the hope that a thousand, or perhaps even a hundred thousand, such gospel opportunities will, in the end, demonstrate the goodness of God in orchestrating a life and death that is otherwise difficult to accept. 

But regardless of whether we find any circumstantial blessings to our present sufferings, we must immerse ourselves in the promises of scripture so that we can live in the joy of our eternal significance.  After all, COVID-19 has taken nothing from us that is of eternal significance.  If we focus exclusively on the loss of our income, relationships and physical opportunities, we will miss these opportunities to focus on our eternal blessings that cannot be lost.  1 Peter 1: 3-6 says, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!  By his great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, reserved in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power for the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.”

On Easter Saturday, the disciples needed to wait upon the Lord only for a few short hours before their hopes and dreams were realized with the empty tomb, with Jesus Christ resurrected.  In our case, how long will we need to wait?  Whether for a few hours or a lifetime, let us pray and wait in hope, knowing that, as has often been said, “It is Friday, but Sunday is coming!”  Happy Easter to you and your family from the Wessman household.

10 Blessings on the 10th Anniversary

Today marks ten years since Micah’s death.  On this 10^th anniversary, Heather and I thought we would share ten ways in which Micah’s short life and sudden death continue to impact us, even ten years later. 

We can have certainty in our eternal destination.   Before Micah died, I never gave much consideration to whether young children are saved.  But when Micah died, it was no longer an abstract question. I jumped into the deep end of the theology pool to ascertain what the Bible says about the eternal destination of those who, like Micah, died before reaching an age of individual responsibility.  Having spent a considerable amount of time researching the question, I came away not only certain of my own son’s eternal destiny, but also continue to benefit from the certainty of my own salvation.  Both Micah and I are saved for all eternity by the blood of Jesus Christ, and nothing I do, or Micah didn’t do, can take away from that salvation.  “For it is by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God, not as a result of works, so that no one can boast.”  Ephesians 2:8,9.  Some of us try to “justify” ourselves by our balance sheets, our achievements, or the number of “good works” that we complete in our lives.  God saved Micah for the pure pleasure of demonstrating his superseding power and goodness, juxtaposed against the self-righteousness of those who think they can personally achieve moral standing before Him by good works.   Paul says, “….God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.”  1 Corinthians 1:26-31.  The assurance of Micah’s salvation is a great promise for each of us that our own eternal destination is independent of our moral acts, and for that all of us have reason to be thankful. 

Suffering redefines “our good” from God’s perspective, not ours. Be very careful about quoting Romans 8:28 flippantly to anyone enduring great suffering.  In that verse, Paul tells us, “And we know that all things work together for good, who have been called according to his purpose.”  When your son dies, your dreams die along with him.  If we flippantly encourage parents with promises based upon an improvement in their circumstances, such as, “don’t worry, you’ll have more children,” or “the pain will get easier,” or “just think positive,” we miss the point of the passage.  God didn’t allow the death of our son to improve our circumstances, but to achieve God’s purposes for us.  In the words of a friend, Romans 8:28 is not for “our best life now” (yes, think Joel Osteen) but “our best life later, much later, as in all of eternity.”  What we believe to be good is not necessarily God’s best for us.  This discovery of God’s best may be painful, and may seem to lead in all sorts of painful, circuitous paths, but we can trust that it is ultimately for our good.

God uses suffering to give us an eternal perspective. “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not things that are on earth.” Colossians 3:1-4. Regardless of what interests and background we have, we tend to surround ourselves with people who think the same way we do, value the same things we do, and reinforce for us, in our own minds, that same value system.  Workplace accolades, financial rewards, and other life circumstances are what I call the “idols of the immediate.” I often wonder how much of what we consider “important” in our minds or our own social circles are just these idols of the immediate—that is, empty promises of satisfaction that, if followed wholeheartedly throughout a lifetime, will only lead to disillusionment and then ultimately destruction.  A continuing, ongoing blessing from Micah’s death is that it is such much easier to pick up on those idols of the immediate and reject them for what they are, and then refocus our lives and energies where they ought to be--on the eternal. I’m certain that, in the absence of Micah’s death, Heather and I would be more closely tied, in heart, thought and action, in achieving what we want on this life, the idols of the immediate, the “things on this earth.” For us, Micah’s death meant that we could more easily focus on matters of eternal significance.

God gives us daily sustaining grace to meet each day’s trials. In those first few weeks following Micah’s death, we could not fathom thinking to the future.   Every hour seemed to be a chore;  it was too much to bear to think of the future that lay ahead.  If we were to pull forward the sufferings that we know we were to endure in the future, we could not possibly hope to endure.  But God gives us sufficient grace today to meet today’s promise, promises to meet tomorrow’s problems with the future grace he will provide. “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope; The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”  Lamentations 3:21. We cannot now see the thousands of interim blessings that God will provide each day, every day, until we see Jesus.  Who can predict what little encouragements--the emails, phone calls, times together with family and friends -- will arise in the meantime, as an answer to prayer, to provide us with the grace that we need to endure? 

Praise God when you are in the sanctuary, because it pays off when you are in the dark.  In Psalm 63, David writes, “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because you steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.” Psalm 63:1-3. What kept David’s faith alive through difficult days was a reflection upon all that God had done for him in the past and to trust that God would similarly use the present sufferings for his ultimate good. David’s reflections upon certain past blessings (his time spent “in the sanctuary”) keep him going through difficult days. For us, it can be the memory of past experiences, when we are walking along the mountaintops of life, in the sunshine with God, that could maintain our faith in a good and sovereign God even through the dark valleys of life. God gave us great days with Micah, as he does now with our living children.  If we were to continually remind ourselves of these past experiences of God in our life, resulting in blessings to us both large and small, then we should be able to keep praises of God “continually on our mouths.” (Psalm 34:1). Then, when nothing seems to be going right in life, we can bring these blessings to mind, and use them as footholds of faith when we otherwise can’t see the benefits of suffering. 

God’s plans for us are beyond tracing out.  We were not able to become parents as quickly as we hoped.  Then, when Micah died, we wondered in light of our previous infertility issues if we would ever have children.  Given what we knew, we had no reason to believe that we would be parents.  Quite unexpectedly, our second son Owen was born within a year of Micah’s death.   Micah’s death, coupled with the other circumstances surrounding Owen’s birth, made it clear to us that God’s hand was clearly in all these circumstances.  Which makes us wonder, what unexpected results will come from our current sufferings?  What will God accomplish through our parenting blunders, our breast cancer, our health setbacks, and other difficulties?  Oh the depth of the riches and of the wisdom and knowledge of God!  How unsearchable are his judgements, and his paths beyond tracing out!  Romans 11:33.

God uses the humble encouragement of fellow believers.  In the past few years, Heather and I have been so encouraged by the humility and sacrifice of many friends.  These friends have demonstrated the type of love that Paul refers to when he says, “…do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility consider others more significant than yourselves.” Philippians 2:3.  Some acquaintances like to tell us what we should do; others don’t want to make the commitment to take the time to listen.  One of the striking characteristics in our friends is the humility involved in ministering to us.  It is a difficult, exhausting, and time-consuming task to sit across the table from someone who needs to be heard. Humility is telling a friend “I don’t know how I can help you, but I’m here to be quiet, sit with you, listen, and then pray together.”  What a blessing to have friends who have the humility to encourage us at great personal cost.

As Christians, we can live simultaneously in both joy and sorrow.  In Paul's words, we are "...as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." 2 Corinthians 6:10. While the waves of grief are shallower, and less frequent, then they were a few years ago, we continue to grieve. We face the realities of death "head on," not ignoring grief, or pretending that grief does not significantly impact us in so many ways. From the outside, our lives are filled with many good things, and have the opportunity to take joy in our children. But the absence of our oldest son from our family creates a "hole" in our lives and in our affections. No matter how otherwise "happy" we think we can be, we recognize that we will never be truly satisfied on this side of eternity. It will not be until we see Jesus that these "holes" will be filled. For this reason, Paul can say that any Christian, regardless of his or her circumstances, can be rejoicing, since one's ultimate source of happiness and joy comes from our relationship with Jesus. For us, and I know for many other grieving parents, the ongoing blessing of a "missing" child is the continual reminder that this world is not our true home, and that we long for that day when we will be welcomed home. Until that day, we look ahead in both sorrow and joy.

Only God provides a sure foundation for our future. Just a few days before Micah died, Micah was a happy and perfectly healthy little boy.  We had no reason to believe that Micah would be taken from us so suddenly.  Our son’s death showed us that we are impotent to control our future, and the future of our children.   In Psalm 73, the Psalmist is initially frustrated by the apparent physical and financial prowess of the godless people around him in light of his own suffering. And then, after entering into worship and prayer with God, he was able to re-center his affections in God. "Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73:25-26. When suffering through the death of a child, facing financial or career difficulties, or enduring health challenges, we remember that we are “a mist that appears for a time and then vanishes.”  James 4:13-15. Our sufferings educate us as to the temporal duration of any source of stability and significance outside of Christ, and point us to the only true source of eternal stability. 

We should “seize the day” and enjoy our family for God’s glory. As each of our three living children passed the 9 month mark, which corresponded with the length of Micah’s earthly lifetime, we took special note of each of them.  Each of them looked so much the same as Micah at that age: the wide grin, the blue eyes, the near-white blonde hair. They were (at the time!) gentle in spirit, pleased to just giggle and take all of life in. Our earthly lifetimes are certainly too short of a timeframe to begin to understand all of the possible ramifications of each of our lives, including Micah’s. But I am increasingly certain of one implication, to me personally, of Micah’s death. I am so grateful, and so appreciative to God, for every waking moment with living kids. “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” Psalm 8:3-4. Who are we to receive these blessings from God? Everything is grace. Nothing is deserved. Everything is extra. Nothing is owed to me. Will you give your living kids an extra hug, knowing what an extra privilege you have to parent living children?  Carpe Diem, I say, but to the Glory of God.