Today’s featured article is written by Loretta Dalton. Dalton and her husband, Anthony, live in Baldwin. Their son, Jonathan, suffered from anxiety, depression and addiction. He died from suicide when he was only 18 years old.
A couple of weeks ago, I sat on a church pew with my precious family: a husband who loves and protects me, a daughter and son-in-law who bring immeasurable joy to my life and a grandson who, in three short months, has taught me to live again. I joyfully sang the Christmas hymns, admired the beautiful decorations and felt the presence of the Lord around me. For a few minutes, I felt almost normal. But, like always, my mind soon drifted to the emptiness in my life.
Looking around, I saw many pews filled with families, and I selfishly wondered if those families could even begin to imagine how lucky they are to fill a pew with completeness. I saw young children dressed in their Christmas finest and longed for the days when my children were young. I saw teenagers drift in and sit with their parents; parents who smiled proudly; parents who thanked God their children were in church. I remembered a time when I felt as they.
It shames me to admit that I had a pity party right there in the middle of church. I have learned that pity parties are an interesting activity, having perfected the art of throwing them alone or with others. However, they have absolutely no lasting value and never seem to end well.
In the midst of my sadness, it occurred to me that I was not alone and others around me were dealing with their own emptiness. There were single moms and dads sitting alone with their children. I am certain they felt as empty as I. A family sitting close by was about to experience the holidays for the first time without a mom and grandmother; emptiness had to be on their minds. An elderly lady sat quietly missing the days when her husband accompanied her to church; his place beside her empty. Emptiness was certainly not hard to find.
I prayed for those around me as I prayed for myself and asked God to help us see beyond our emptiness. My mind oddly drifted to my favorite episode of “The Andy Griffith Show.” In this particular episode, Opie, the show’s youngest character, having allowed three baby birds fondly named Winking, Blinking and Nod to fly on their own for the first time, comments on the emptiness of the birds’ cage. Andy, Opie’s father, quickly turns Opie’s attention away from the cage’s emptiness and points out the fullness of the trees; trees filled with chirping baby birds.
Like Opie’s dad, our heavenly Father longs to help us focus on the fullness around us. God promises an eternal life of completion to those who believe upon Him. I long for the day when the emptiness of this world is no more. For now, I will focus on the promises of God; promises that fill my life completely!
