The Battle

 

He asked a question that seemed simple and innocent enough. I pondered on it a little and quickly had three memories float to the surface. They were sweet memories really, yet they packed a punch when I started down that trail. He told me he was writing a paper about his brother for school. I could not foresee that his processing and gaining of information would stir in me some of the battle that has waged on and off for so long.

I was asked, many years ago now, if I would write about guilt. I didn’t do it, I couldn’t. How could I write about something that I was still battling, though even at that time quite a number of years had already passed? What could I possibly have to offer by way of encouragement? Here I am, eighteen years after Micah’s birth, nearly eighteen from his passing, and the battle still wages at times. Thinking through the questions for this paper, was an unexpected launching of the war against guilt once again.

People have wondered over the years whether Todd and I blamed each other for what happened to Micah that night. Blaming each other has never, not even for a moment, been a struggle for us. However, I have waged war against personal guilt for almost two decades now.

I think every parent who loses a child can battle guilt.  When you are involved in the actions that led to his death, there is plenty of room for those thoughts to take root. However, I think many people battle guilt in life for numerous reasons.  I’m going to get incredibly honest with you.  For the last eighteen years on his birthday and on the 4th of July (sometimes on other occasions like when I am speaking at an event), the same lies make their way to the surface. “Why were you always so busy? Why didn’t you hold him more and spend more time with him? What were you thinking that night? What kind of mom does what you did? How could you be so irresponsible and careless?”

“You are a terrible mom.”

Those words, even all these years later, can threaten to undo me. I am finally writing them and addressing guilt because I know there are others battling lies they never tell people about, feeling the thousand pound weight of guilt on their backs trying to crush them. Those words do not crush me though, nor does the guilt you battle have to crush you.

They don’t crush me because I know in whom I have believed (2 Tim 1:12).  I know He is a God of no condemnation; that guilt is never from God (Romans 8:1).  I know I serve a perfect God, and that I am not perfect (Psalm 18:30).  To make a mistake is to be human and a reminder of our need for God.  I know that our days are numbered, only God knows the number, and He makes no mistakes (Job 14:5, Psalm 139:16).  I know I am a beloved daughter of the King not because I am so great, but because I have been created in the image of God and have been made righteous by His Son (1 John 3:1, Gen 1:27).   I have learned to take my thoughts captive when they start down the road of lies instead of letting it all spiral out of control (2 Corinthians 10:5).  I’ve learned next to identify the lies.  I’ve then practiced tearing them down and replacing them with these truths as many times as I need to until I believe them again (2 Corinthians 10:3-5). I’ve also learned to let others in. Sometimes we need more than just our own voice speaking against the lies and telling us truth (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12).

 It’s amazing how much quieter guilt gets and how much louder truth is when another is speaking truth into us.

When guilt threatens to make us crazy, to crush our spirits, to make us hide, to throw us into insecurity, or to cause us to be lost in despair, we have to preach the truth to ourselves and allow others to do so as well. Those lies must be thrown out every time, and we rebuild the walls of our mind with the truth of God’s Word.

Guilt crushes with its weight, truth lifts with its freedom.

I know my other kids will come with questions in the years to come. Maybe they will write papers about their brother too. I know I face a birthday and an anniversary of death every year.  I know I’ll speak at more events and share the story with more people, and all of those things have the potential to start the war again. That’s just it though, it is a war because I WILL battle back every time. I know how to battle and over the years, the battle has gotten easier. Also, I never for a moment battle alone. I have the Holy Spirit reminding me of all I’ve been taught (John 14:26).  I also have this truth upon which to firmly plant my feet:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.”

2 Corinthians 4:7-11

It may be a battle, but I am never crushed. I know the Victor, and His name is Jesus.