Loveliness in the darkness

Early yesterday morning, I managed to take Gamora to her favourite park. It’s not very close to home. Without traffic, it takes us 25-30 minutes, and even though Gamora complains (especially when the car stops – even at a traffic light!), she really loves the park and it’s a worthwhile trip.

I was feeling quite low that morning. It’s been a busy period at work, and I had an online event some days ago. Usually, when things get hectic at work, my dad’s check-ins are really helpful. They’re super basic too- whether I’ve eaten, taken a moment to stand and stretch, etc. Very calm, quiet questions that make me remember to breathe. This time round, it was very obvious to me that this was absent. It’d be 3:00pm and I’d feel a sudden pang of hunger, only to realise I’d not had lunch. It’s hitting me – papa’s gone. It’s real. He’s not here anymore.

Additionally, there’s been a lot going on at work and some things have gone really well. I cannot say the number of times that I started to say something to my dad to let him know. After mummy passed, I really missed her in such conversations. I’d have conversations with papa and in a quiet moment try to remember mummy and what she’d have said. That hurt has never really left- it’s a regular visitor, but now it feels like the significance of the grief visitor has intensified so much more because I don’t have papa.

It’s hard to say what I want at this time. The work event has gone well- and I feel a sense of wonder and joy. Wonder because I know it’s God who’s worked things out. Joy because I’ve been a part of it. He let me be. So – there’s no discontent there. I’ve also started feeling better after such a horrible struggle with an RA flare that started after papa’s passing. Physically, I’ve been able to go for lovely walks with Gamora and do things around the house. I’ve also been able to go back to church, which is good- to engage with my community in person. I even attended an in-person meet for my grief support group because I was well enough to do so. Yet the feeling is that something big is missing. It is real. My dad’s not here anymore.

Papa’s absence is hard to take on its own. Papa’s departure makes mummy’s passing real all over again. So it’s not just one fresh wound but the opening up of an old wound that I’ve to contend with. Oh papa, oh mummy. I’m this way because it’s all feeling real. You’re not here anymore.

Anyone who knows me, knows I talk so much about God. I keep batting on about Him. Where does He fit in all this? I think that morning, when I was in the park with Gamora, I had a glimpse of how He fits in.

I’m not sure if the flowers I saw are water lilies or lotuses, but there were a few delicate pink ones standing on their own amidst a lot of dying ones. They held a sense of elegance amidst the obvious fragility of their lives. There was beautiful white one all on its lonesome, yet somehow it felt like a flourishing loner. And the colours in the park today. We were early, but because of how hot it’s been and thanks to the storm we had last night, the sky was a brilliant blue with gentle traces of white clouds. Oddly enough, what struck me then was a rather weather beaten tree. It didn’t look like it had lots of green leaves for its trunk and branches seemed to have overtaken it somehow. Felt so much like the trials of life beating down on it, but it stood strong. Yet, there a strange but pretty growth in it that almost added beauty to a rather dull trunk of another tree, which added unexpected colour to it. It was as I was surrounded by nature that I understood a little the life that He’s given me. Fragile, yet elegant. Thriving, yet lonesome. Weather-beaten, yet strong. And in the midst of darkness, some splashes of colour. It struck me that there is loveliness and good even when it’s dark and painful.

Recently, one of the pastors from my church joined some of colleagues and me for a devotion session we had. He referred us to Psalm 34, which is a Psalm of my favourite king David. It’s a poignant Psalm and it was written just after the time when David pretended to be a madman to elude enemies. I’ve been pondering on Psalm 34 which is a powerhouse Psalm to unpack. In my present state of mind, it strikes me that after bearing the humiliation of feigning madness to escape an enemy, and while he is in hiding, David manages a boast in the Lord (verse 1). The boast doesn’t come at a time when David’s leading a good life as king in his palace. It comes when he’s at a low and is living in the shadows of caves. There is a call at this point of lowness to magnify and exalt the Lord (verse 2). That’s staggering. The ability to look upon God when he’s in a terrible low period is beyond belief. It is precisely because he’s doing this and finding a sense of peace and perhaps, even beauty, that he’s able to make another staggering claim in verse 8: ‘Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good.’ There is loveliness even when it is dark and painful. The verse that clenches the deal for me is verse 18, where David reminds us that ‘The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.’ This speaks to me. It is when David is low and broken, when his comforts aren’t with him that he takes refuge in the Lord. It is when he is crushed and brokenhearted that he’s able to taste the Lord – and the LORD is good! It speaks to me of the circumstances that I find most dreadful now – a life without my parents, when I’ve just suffered a rather recent loss of my dad, and when I’m feeling crushed and brokenhearted. I don’t think David’s circumstances changed very quickly after that – but he did find the LORD good! Some of the verses of Psalm 34 are prophetic – and we see them coming to be in Jesus. The last verse of the Psalm tells us that ‘The LORD redeems the life of his servants; none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned.’ That is the promise sealed by the death and resurrection of Jesus. It is the promise of life with him- it’s not speaking of the here and now but of a future that is guaranteed to all who put their trust (take refuge) in Him.

What now? I guess I’ll keep going through this life according to the circumstances that God has granted me. I must count my blessings. I feel that God has sent me so many amazing people. Whilst it’s true that some friends just haven’t been there very much, there have been so many others. This has been a blessing- as I navigate the caves that I’m in at the moment. I have to say that there are many moments when I am in awe of God and His goodness. It feels like there has been a steady supply of grace to meet my needs. I am grateful. I must also look to the future. Life as we know it is full of decay. The walk in the park in the park reminded me of that. Psalm 34 reminds me of the grace and the promise that I have in Christ. Indeed, there is loveliness and beauty even in this darkness.

To my father – I wish, I wish, I wish you were here. I miss your presence so much.

To my mother – I wish, I wish, I wish all this time stopped the desire to be with you and chat as we used to. It hasn’t.

Thank you both for bringing me up in this faith. I thank Jesus for you.