A Sweet and Golden 16

Today is Oliver's birthday. He would have turned sixteen today, our sixth birthday without him. I think birthdays are so hard for me because they remind me of everything I am missing out on, and on birthdays, unlike on Christmas or Thanksgiving, it seems like there is nothing to celebrate without him here with us. Even the anniversary of his death brings celebration as we remember that he lives in heaven with Jesus where there is no more pain and where we will join him in what feels like a lot of time but isn't. But a birthday without the birthday boy feels to me like only loss mixed with sweet memories.

On our first birthday without him, three and a half months after he died, it was hard to breathe. It was the freshest of pain all over again. We canceled everything and hunkered down just the three of us. My daughter and I made a comforting pot of chicken soup for lunch, and my husband took us out for Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner, a favorite of Oliver's. I find it funny that I remember the food, as I know it was hard to eat during this time too. I reminded myself over and over again all day long of Psalm 84:10a, "Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere." Somehow, though I longed to spoil him and celebrate him turning eleven with a cake, a special meal, a present, and a shared party with his sister, he was better off in heaven. The weeks after his birthday felt so heavy and dull as we faced life without him. 

I knew I posted something on Facebook on our first birthday without him. I almost didn't go back and find it because I was afraid of what I would read there. Afraid of being reminded of the pain and how hard life was back then. But I did go back, and I was shocked to find the words and message, which I try so hard to share here each week, were already in me: 

Happy birthday, Oliver! There are so many things I could share today... thousands of pictures, millions of things I miss about him (even the burping), and countless memories. There are so many people to thank for loving Oliver, [my daughter, my husband,] and me well that I could never attempt to thank you all here. I pray you know who you are.

I could share Bible verses and songs that have been a lifeline to me, talk about the waves of grief and the hope we cling to because of Jesus, discuss the lessons I am slowly learning and the dreams for the future that are just barely starting to form, or share how when we keep doing the next thing in front of us, God keeps showing up with more than enough grace and blessing on our efforts.

Part of me wants to crawl under a rock and share nothing today.

I think though, I will just share my prayer for Oliver as he celebrates in Heaven: Psalm 84:10a Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.

Today as we remember fondly Oliver's life, as we participate in a few activities that help us feel connected with him, as we mourn what could have been, as we dream about what he is like now in his heavenly home, as we long for reunion with him, we also remember two truths David penned in Psalm 84.

1. Oliver is blessed to be in heaven with God. He is missing nothing!

Psalm 84:4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.

2. We who mourn Oliver today are blessed as we look to God for our strength and press on with longing for our heavenly home.

Psalm 84:5-7 Blessed are those whose strength is in your, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baka, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion.

We are connected to Oliver today as we all share in God's presence, us in part and him in full. Five years later, my prayer, offered not with torturous grief but with heartbreak nonetheless, is the same: gratitude for those who love us and help us, joy in remembering who he was, sadness over what was lost, amazement at God's sustaining grace toward us, and faith that "better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere".