No More Hypotheticals

For many of you following along with me on this corner of the internet, you know that my mother-in-law, Cheryl Rippel, was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer that had spread to her liver not too long ago. On January 6th at 9:04 am she went to be with the Lord. She was not alone. She was surrounded by her family as she entered paradise.

Cheryl is the first family member I have lost as an adult. Cheryl was more than a mother-in-law to me. She was very much a mother to me. I loved her deeply. From the moment I met her, she made me feel like I was part of her family. She was the best Nay Nay Soren could ever ask for and we will make sure he always knows how much she loved him and how much he loved her.

Being the pastor in the family is an odd vocation. As I mourn her death and process the waves of grief, I am also the one looked to in our family for spiritual guidance. I am not complaining. It is an honor. My greatest joy and honor as a pastor to date was anointing Cheryl with oil and praying with her in the last few moments of her earthly life as her baptism was completed.

As a pastor I enjoy theology. I enjoy thinking deeply about God and the Scriptures. However, in my pastoral training, the ministry of presence was emphasized for moments such as this. Not correct theology. Not the right bible verse. Just shut up and be in the room. The pastor’s role is to be present. The pastor is standing in the stead of Christ.

A few days after Cheryl’s death, I sat on my sister-in-law’s patio having conversations with my family about the afterlife and why God would allow this to happen. These are the typical conversations I normally have the privilege of processing with people from my church when they lose a loved one.

But this time it was my loved one.

As I tried to answer these questions, I found myself thinking, “Shut up. Just be present to your family, to yourself, and to God’s presence in this moment.”

I share all this because I know I am not alone in my mourning. Many of you have suffered the death of a loved one. Many of you have experienced the greedy claws of cancer snatching a loved one from you too early. Many of you have found yourself sitting in your grief asking God how he could allow this to happen.

For me, all of these questions were all hypothetical until January 6th at 9:04 in the morning. They are no longer hypothetical. I have found myself thinking more about the afterlife than ever before and asking God why he would allow this to happen.

I know I will probably never have the answers to these questions. Even if I did, I imagine they wouldn’t be satisfying.

As I was preparing for Cheryl to die, what an odd sentence to type, there was part of me that was afraid I would grow bitter and cold towards God. As of this moment, by his grace, I have not. If anything, my hope in the resurrection has grown. The longing for Christ’s return is no longer hypothetical for me. My sign-off tagline “Grace and peace ‘til we rise in glory” actually has skin and bones associated with it now.  

As crazy as it sounds, I really do believe what I have given my life to proclaiming. That Christ will return and make all things new. There will be a day when cancer doesn’t win. There will be a day when death will not have the final sting. 

Just because I am in this place doesn’t mean you have to be there yet. If you are angry with God, that is ok. God can handle it. My prayer is that the Lord’s presence is present in your grief as you wrestle through the anger and pain you may be experiencing, no matter what the cause of it may be.

I don’t believe everything happens for a reason. The reality is that the world is fractured by sin and awful and tragic things happen to the people we love. But I do believe that God is working amid the brokenness of our lives and our world. This too is no longer a hypothetical statement for me.

A part of me is thankful that these questions that so many people experience are no longer hypotheticals to me. Do I wish they could remain hypothetical? Of course. But that is not reality. We will all have to grapple with sin, death, and suffering in one way or another.

When your time comes, if it hasn’t already, I pray the promised coming of the bodily resurrection brings you hope as it has brought me hope. Not in some hypothetical way, but in a real flesh-and-bones kind of way.

I love you Nay Nay.

Grace and peace ‘til we rise in glory.