Marcus Isn't Coming Home

Over the past six years I've encountered many bends and turns along the path of acceptance as I try my best to live life without Marcus. A life where my heart bends more toward worship than it turns in the direction of despair. A life where my heart turns more toward trusting God's promises than it bends to Satan's lies. 

Since losing Marcus, I've tried to express my heartache in healthy ways. I grieve for him every October, honor him every November at the Hope Film Series, and miss him every December at the Christmas dinner table. If I'm guilty of any unhealthy practices, then it's my small indulgences of make believe. From time to time, I've allowed myself to pretend that Marcus isn't gone, but still busy doing God's work in New York City. 

I tell myself he doesn't visit because he's swamped at work helping struggling parents improve their lives for the sake of their kids. I say to myself he doesn't call me anymore because he's busy at HI-DEF inspiring teenagers to transcend the boundaries of society's expectations. Silly I know, but it has helped. Well tomorrow I say goodbye to the luxuries of make believe.

Tomorrow I leave for New York City to help Adrienne and Georgie load their belongings in the U-Haul and drive them back to their new home on the west side of Cincinnati. My cup runs over with joy and gratitude at the opportunity to make full use of my uncle privileges including attending sporting events, school plays, and camp outs in my backyard.  In last few weeks several people asked me, "Aren't you so excited to have Adrienne and Georgie living back home?" My reply is much like the eye-rolling responses I often get from the girls in the youth group, which is always, "Yeah! Duh?"

However, the incompleteness of their question reveals the glaring void in my life that at times I've wanted to pretend didn't exist. For in their question they don't mention Marcus whatsoever, and that's because of the bitter reality that Marcus is not here.  How grateful I am for a faith where bitter truths represent only a part of my reality, and not all of it. Yet their question also stands full of hope and jubilation that signifies the other part of my reality, and that's because Adrienne and Georgie are coming here. This encapsulates the strange paradox of all grieving believers. We find ourselves caught between feeling the fullness of God's grace and provision, while simultaneously sensing a part of us is always missing. 

As excited as I am for Adrienne and Georgie's arrival, I am terribly sad to part with the comforts of make believe. But that is the cost of seeking to take the path of acceptance wherever it leads.  And right now the certainty of my path bends towards a truth that no amount of pretending, fantasy, or imagination can obscure. The truth I need to fully accept is that Marcus isn't too preoccupied to hang out. The certainty I need to readily admit is that Marcus isn't too busy to call. Worse yet, the reality I need to willingly embrace is that Marcus isn't coming home. 

CJE