Empty in grief... Filled with God's presence

As we settle into these last days of Holy Week--the days where Jesus went even into the grave--We consider what the death of Christ means. 

Christs' presence in the grave means that those who walk in grief are doing so WITH God who has been there. And those who follow Christ into death are given the hope of following into life, too...

Here’s a testimony from Lynn Blalock who has experienced this first-hand:

Empty is not usually a word I use to describe myself. Sometimes I feel like I'm “running on EMPTY"  because I’ve allowed life and its 'busy-ness' to overtake me. But when I get quiet and spend some quality time in His presence, He fills me with His love and peace and grace and mercy. 

Recently, however, I experienced a different kind of empty; a deep, painful emptiness that was forced on me with an awful tearing of the heart and soul. On December 17th, 2015, my husband, my spouse, and my best friend suddenly died.  The suddenness was shattering. 911 was called, sirens wailed, EMT's worked feverishly...at first here at home, then in the ambulance, then in the emergency room.  But eventually, I was called in to face the doctor as he struggled to find the right words to tell a wife that there was no more that could be done to help a husband.  And there it was: an awful, Empty feeling. He was gone. I was here.

Silence...disbelief...then tears...then sobs. Two nurses wrapped their arms around me. One told me I could cry as long as I wanted. I looked up and saw tears in her eyes, too, She had lost her 22 year old daughter in a terrible accident the previous year. I hugged her tighter and we both cried together. I knew God had sent her.

 At one point, I whispered the words, "What do I do now?"

Her reply was, "You have only two things that you have to do right now...cry and breathe. I followed her advice.

As I quietened, a neighbor came who had seen us rush to the hospital. She had watched Tony grow up. And she came to give us love and support. Looking back, God was in charge of all that was set in motion that day. The neighbor asked before she left, "What can I do for you?"  My immediate response was for her to call the church...and my UMW circle leader. I knew they would get the word out and prayers would be lifted up.

Then a social worker and another nurse came in to ask about my nearest family. I gave them the info to call my brother in Leesburg and Tony's sister who was with her husband at the hospital across the street.  I walked out in the hallway to make a few calls and then I just leaned on the doorway. My insides were swirling. I remembered...breathe and cry...but there were no more tears, so I started to pray.  All I could do was cry out for His mercy.  I looked up and there was Pastor Emily. Then came my brother and his wife. Even in the emptiness and numb shock, I was relieved to be surrounded with loved ones. Tony's sister arrived to say her final good-byes to her big brother.

Then it was time to leave.

Yes, there was still a hole in my heart and my insides were still uneasy, but I was able to say "Good-bye, sweet man. I'll see you soon.".
…and I knew that I was surrounded by God's love as we walked to ours cars. 

It has been weeks now and God's love and protection has not waned. God has walked so closely and sent love and blessings in so many ways, through so many people. Even here, in the valley of the shadow of death—even when I feel empty—God is with me. How does anyone walk through this without God and the love of the Saints? My life and heart still miss my husband—it’s strange that he’s not here with me—but I can truly say that this time of grief has been full of prayer and blessing. Full of the presence of God and hope.

Let me continually be filled with You, O Lord.