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Stephanie Rische

Blogger and Writer: Capturing Stories of God's Grace

May 3, 2019

Not Enough Time

Every grief, I think, is different. With each death comes unique aches, depending on who you lost or how you lost them, depending on the history you had together or the future you didn’t have together.

But in one sense, every grief is the same. The anthem for anyone who has ever lost someone is, “We didn’t have enough time.” Whether that person was one or one hundred, we are never ready. It’s always too soon.

We lost Baby Mo when he’d been inside me just nine weeks. It was too soon. We didn’t have enough time.

The book of Ecclesiastes says there’s a time for everything, a season for everything.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die.

I’ve always given intellectual assent to the idea that there’s a time to be born and a time to die. But I never thought our baby’s time to die would come before his time to be born.

If we had our way, Mo’s time to die would come after he’d lived a long, good life. It doesn’t seem right that his time to die came before he had a chance to blow bubbles or shoot baskets with his dad or give sloppy kisses to his mama.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about God’s timing, it’s that he has his own clock, his own calendar. Sometimes he’s slower than I’d like, and I’m stuck in the agony of waiting.

And sometimes the hourglass is up before I’ve even fully embraced the season.

A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance . . .

And so even though this isn’t what we would have chosen, now is a time to weep. It’s time to weep on a Wednesday afternoon, when the delivery guy grins and says, “Congratulations!” not knowing the flowers are here to mark Mo’s too-short life. It’s time to mourn when the baby books I’d put on hold arrive at the library, only to be returned, unopened. It’s time to grieve when the doctor’s office calls, reminding of my the prenatal appointment I forgot to cancel.

But now is also a time to laugh. It’s time to laugh when Daniel sings silly songs at the dinner table. It’s time to laugh when Graham dashes out of the bathroom, stark naked, before bath time. It’s time to dance with my boys in the kitchen, even though I have no rhythm and I’m supposed to be making dinner.

So maybe the truth about seasons is that it’s not one or the other—living or dying, weeping or laughing, mourning or dancing. Maybe life is an inextricable jumble of both.

And although we don’t get to choose whether it’s a time to weep or a time to laugh, maybe we do get to choose to embrace them both at once.

***

What I want to tell you is that these times are connected. Mourning and dancing are part of the same movement of grace. Somehow, in the midst of your tears, a gift of life is given. Somehow, in the midst of your mourning, the first steps of the dance take place. The cries that well up from your losses belong to your song of praise. Those who cannot grieve cannot be joyful. 

Henri Nouwen
For Mo. Wishing we had more time.

16 Comments Filed Under: Seasons Tagged With: Ecclesasties, grief, joy, miscarriage, Seasons
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About Stephanie

I think that glimmers of grace are all around us, and I'd love to share those stories with you. I hope you'll grab a cup of coffee and join me at StephanieRische.com.

Quote of the Week

“Some things have to be believed to be seen.”
—Madeleine L’Engle

Discussion

  1. Sally says

    May 3, 2019 at 10:12 am

    I love this Stephanie. And I’m so sorry for your loss.

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:16 am

      Thank you, precious friend.

      Reply
  2. Alice says

    May 3, 2019 at 10:32 am

    WOW! How true. The grief and joy go together and it becomes a unique and beautiful rhythm somehow with God’s grace. It’s true, if we don’t mourn we also rob ourselves of joy.

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:16 am

      Thinking of you as you mourn and rejoice too.

      Reply
  3. Merry Luehr says

    May 3, 2019 at 11:09 am

    love and prayers. That is all.

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:17 am

      Right back at you, Merry!

      Reply
  4. Jennifer says

    May 3, 2019 at 11:17 am

    Beautifully expressed!! Thank you for your insight as we all walk different paths of grief. So sorry for your loss. ♥️

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:17 am

      Thank you for your kind words, Jen!

      Reply
  5. Kristen Joy Wilks says

    May 3, 2019 at 2:48 pm

    Ah, Stephanie … so beautiful and true and real. Thank you for this.

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:17 am

      Thank you, Kristen!

      Reply
  6. Lena says

    May 4, 2019 at 1:58 pm

    Lots of love for your family from Lena

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:17 am

      Love to you too, Lena!

      Reply
  7. Kathy Bostrom says

    May 4, 2019 at 2:27 pm

    Bless you all, dear Stephanie. I wish you and Daniel and Graham could have watched sweet baby Mo grow up as you grow old. And you are so right about the times and seasons. Same with the Beatitudes: we can be in both extremes at the same time, or even in the middle somewhere. I once preached a sermon about the times and seasons and made just the point you did, but you said it so beautifully and heartfelt you don’t need my sermon, that’s for sure! Praying for good news next time, and joyful moments in each and every day as you grieve, although I know that loss never really goes away.

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:18 am

      I hadn’t thought about the Beatitudes that way–what a great perspective, Kathy!

      Reply
  8. Leslie Johnson says

    May 4, 2019 at 6:02 pm

    Your words are beautiful. An inextricable jumble. I see it. I feel it for you and with you. And also for me for things in my life. Thank you for putting words to the sorrow and joy that we all have to embrace over and over. Praying for you as you walk and embrace.

    Reply
    • Stephanie says

      May 6, 2019 at 11:18 am

      Blessings to you, Leslie! Your words bring so much life.

      Reply

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