“Oh my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son!”
I just got off the phone with two moms who have both outlived one of their children. Some of the worst grief I’ve witnessed is a parent for their child.
I notice a couple of things here in David’s grieving. He says his son’s name over and over. Grief isn’t a vague category like “income” or “political leanings.” It’s not something you can control by organizing it into five stages. Grief is always unique and personal. Most often it has a name attached to it. Absalom. Cindy. Cassandra. Morley. Sue. Rod. River. Jean. Andy. Anne …
The other thing I notice here is David’s heartache, his love for his boy so profound that he wishes his own life be substituted for his boy. “Take me instead of him.” If only such things were in our power.
Such things are in God’s power and, of all things, he did it. He pulled off the substitute death. He died so we could live. What love! What sacrifice.
As you sit with your grief and pray today, hear Jesus’ voice over your life. “The Son of Man came to give his life as a ransom for many.” My daughter, my son, I did this for you.
His life for ours. Thanks be to God.
Grieving and praying with you this day.
Andrew
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