The Other Side of the Computer Screen

Ten days after the 5th year of our son's death My husband and I were faced with the opportunity to share our "story" of Jerin. I was going to look people in the eye and share the depths of my heart to strangers. It was going to be the first time I would talking about this from the other side of my computer screen,

The strangers my husband and I would be sharing with were living at the OC Rescue Mission.  These people have a story to tell themselves, one of pain, despair, and desperation. Some have battled addiction and homelessness, and they knew, understood, and lived hopelessness.

As the day of sharing grew closer, I became more afraid.  I knew these poor unsuspecting bystanders would get side blinded by the rawness and realness of our son.  I feared their response, I feared my response.  Another thing that weighed tremendously heavy on my heart as time drew near was the responsibility of representing God and sharing about my tumultuous relationship with Him.  I wanted to be the perfect blend of sharing hope and the reality of being a suffering Christian.

Honestly it was impossible for me to know what exactly to share.  Thirty minutes to share five years of our life was just too overwhelming.  So I got on my knees and prayed. I prayed for those who were coming, I prayed that Jerry and I would meet each of them where they were at.  I prayed for the Holy Spirit to guide our story where it should go and I prayed for the enemy to be bound. That was it.  That was my preparation.

The 20 minute drive there was pretty silent as Jerry and I talked over a few details. I felt like I was driving to a funeral.  I had a true sense of "my audience" and I knew somehow, someway, these souls would relate to us.  I felt sad knowing we were going to join together in grief, in questioning, and in pain.

Once we arrived, we looked at each other and I said, "This may be the first and last time we ever do this, let's be as vulnerable as we can." We walked hand in hand inside. There were about 30 people (way more than I had expected), and the room was buzzing as they all chatted and laughed as they caught up.  I looked around and took a deep breath. Here we go.

After our introduction we got on stage and started.  What happened over the course of 40 minutes seems like another world and lifetime.  There were tears and nodding of heads.  There was gasps and open jaws.  As we shared the tragedy and as I shared my honest journey with Christ I wondered, "Am I going to far? Am I the only one who feels this way? Will they kick me out?"

Some of these students see both my husband and I on stage at church every Sunday.  I wasn't worried about them knowing our story.  I was also looking forward to have them see that even broken people can still love God. Even flawed, questioning, and suffering souls can still raise their hands in praise.  I saw the realization of this sink in to each person as we barred our souls.

After we shared there was a few minutes for a Q & A time. One question sank in and penetrated my inner being, it shook my core and reminded me why I have passion in sharing my story.  The question was, "Did you ever feel guilty having the feelings you did towards God?"  Yes. Yes. Yes.  This is it.  This confirmed why I feel so strongly about  being a suffering Christian.  It's why I sit behind this computer and why I'm willing to get on the other side of it.

My response to her was something like this, "Yes. Yes. Yes.  I'm still afraid to admit my true feelings sometimes.  But I've learned more than anything that God already knew and created my hidden feelings towards Him....good, bad, and ugly.  He is the safest place for me to share my innermost anguish with.  I felt as a Christian I needed to show strength at all times, but that bound me up.  I couldn't possibly share my true thoughts to another Christian!  However, taking off the perfection mask has freed me up in Christ for the first time.  Free to be my true self, free to question, free to kick and scream, free to be exactly who He made me to be."

I would say the hardest part of sharing was the end.  No one knew how to react. This kind of sharing isn't something you get a standing ovation for.  Several people came up to give us a hug, some left crying.  One man came up with tears streaming down his face as he admitted losing a child when he was 16....he never dealt with it.  So heartbreaking.  We prayed with a couple people before we left and we found ourselves standing alone with the group leaders.

Although my human self wanted to hear how awesome it was, I knew that this kind of story isn't going to get the usual accolades.  When reality hits, it is like a ton of bricks.  It needs to sink in. The reality is, I may never hear how it affected those who heard it.

But as I sit here and reflect, I am humbled, overwhelmed, and honored to be able to share how God graciously gave us moments with Jerin to change our lives forever. Looking people in the eye, meeting them where they are at, and trusting that I am not at work but God is was just......breathtaking.  I really and truly feel we all desire to be real and accepted.  My prayer is to live that and show it to others behind and in front of the computer screen.