Unimaginable Grief

Just when I was about to drift off to dreamland, after a restful, wonderful respite from stress with my siblings and their families at a resort south of Manila, I was roused by my husband who was informed of very tragic news from the US:

My nephew, Derick, figured in a fatal car accident—a head-on collision on the expressway. He was 29 and single.

The accident was flashed in all the major newspapers and on TV in that part of the US. It was shocking news. He rammed into another car with four passengers—all of them dead.

The suddenness and magnitude of the event stun all of us in our clan. Earlier, in our family reunion, we talked about an ailing cousin who is in her late 70’s. We were concerned about what would happen in the next few months.

But this accident—it is so . . . unexpected. Unimaginable.

Upon insistence of my sister through successive and frantic phone calls to kith and kin nearing midnight, I called my nephew’s mom—my cousin Hilda. I was afraid to call because I couldn’t summon the right words to lighten her grief. She was distraught and beyond. But I didn’t need to say much. In between sobs and wails, she did all the talking. And all I could whisper was a series of “I know.”

In truth and in fact, I know. I know how she feels. Being a mom myself, I could feel the depth of her grief. At this time, she doesn’t need words--not from me or anyone. She simply needs to talk and to be reassured that she is not alone in her anguish. She isn’t.

We, her family, are with her, with her husband, and with her one other son in a circle of love and prayer across the globe. And as you read this, please be with us in prayer, as well, for the strength and comfort of Hilda and her family.

On my knees, I pray for extensive and intensive grace: to make me unequivocally trust in—not necessarily understand—Him; why things are the way they are. Proverbs 3:5, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”