Gathering my children and cleaning up the spilled popcorn, I was leaving another game when I met another mom from my daughter’s new basketball team. As usual, we compared family notes: what we do, our husbands, how many children we have, et cetera. I stumble a bit with that number. Having lost a son suddenly in 2015, I say “nine” and then add the caveat of having lost our oldest son, Michael.
Perhaps it’s too much information, requiring the other person to give a response, and it’s sometimes a little awkward–in this case, I could tell she was moved, blinking as her eyes filled up. To ease the feeling, I smiled, reassured her that “it’s all good,” explaining that Michael had a brain malformation and every day was a gift. This eased the tension and we moved on.
Truth is, it is all good and we can smile at his death, but the fact that he had a brain malformation anyway isn’t the reason why it’s okay that he died. We counted every day–even the day he left us a gift not because of that, but because of the hope we have in Christ!
I memorized it, you probably did, too. “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks for a reason for your hope” (1Peter 3:15). I blew it. Jesus and the promise of resurrection is the reason for my hope. May I not be ashamed of my hope of heaven and the resurrection–yet there I was ashamed to give that reason for my hope.
I profess this belief in the creed and I really do believe it with all my being. Jesus’ victory over sin and death that opened the way to heaven is the reason we can rejoice and claim victory even in what seems like a loss. This is my faith. This is my hope. How hopeless our world can be, but this hope does not disappoint and I should be ready and unashamed to give my reasons for hope.