Leah Stirewalt

In the beginning, I visited daily. Sometimes more than once a day. My trips to the cemetery to sit at my husband’s grave are absolutely precious to me. It’s where I spend a lot of time praying, weeping, “talking” to Chris, and thinking. He’s buried in a beautiful memorial park in a section that sits on a small hill with a mountain landscape dropped in right behind it – or right in front depending on the angle from where you’re observing. It’s a beautiful God painting!

After I returned to work following Chris’ death, I continued to head to the cemetery before I would go home many nights each week. I know Chris isn’t actually there, but just knowing his earthly body is just a few feet under from where I stand or sit makes me feel close to him (as crazy as this might sound). On one occasion, I was talking with a co-worker who also lost a close family member a few months before me, and she asked me a question that she thought would make me wonder if she’d lost her marbles. She asked, “Sometimes, do you ever just want to dig him up so you could see him again, hold him again, feel him again?” She went on to share that she had been thinking those strange things herself regarding her loved one. Interestingly enough…I totally got that. As crazy as it may appear, I also wanted to do that very impossible thing.

As the months went on, the colder days set in, school started back for my new high schooler, and life got a little more hectic. My cemetery days shrunk to just weekend days. I felt so guilty for that. It was almost as if I thought Chris would be disappointed if I didn’t show up for several days. I KNOW (in my “knower” as my friend Lorie would say) that this is crazy thinking. He’s NOT there. However, it didn’t stop me from feeling the way I did.

Then came November. The time changed, and the shorter days became even shorter and much colder. This particular cemetery closes at sunset – meaning I often can’t get there after work anymore during the week. Then, I discovered my weekends were full – going out of town, running errands, etc. Before I knew it – I hadn’t been to Chris’ grave in a couple of weeks. Upon realization of that – I wept. I felt I had betrayed him. Seriously. I know this makes no sense, in many ways, but this was huge to me. The guilt was almost more than I could take.

It’s practically mid-January now. I’ve only been to visit his gravesite maybe 5 times in the last 12 weeks. For some, even that’s too much. For me? It’s just another bend in the Grief Road. Does this mean I care less? On the contrary actually. As I blogged just a week or so ago, I’m more in love with my husband now than ever before. I want to honor him now every way imaginable. But, the cemetery guilt is leaving. I know Chris would not want me out there all the time. I can still “talk to him” from the comforts of home.

And, honestly, I look forward to spring – the warmer, longer days – when I can spend a little more time in that peaceful, special place out of “want to” rather than guilt. Oh, how I miss him so…

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”

Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. ~John 5:1-8 NIV

The words kept ringing in my ears…

Do you want to get well? Do you want to get well? Do you want to get well?

I remembered this very healing that took place at the pool of Bethesda when Jesus uttered these words, but I couldn’t remember the exact location and the context of the words. And so my search began…

I found the reference immediately and went right to John 5, and I studied. I read the words over and over. I even studied the Greek a bit. I went to my Bible software suite and studied it in a commentary. What are you trying to say to me here Lord?

Do you want to get well?

And…then I knew. I’ve been sick. Not in the physical sense that most would think of…cold, flu, virus…but heartsick, grief-sick. And, like the invalid here in this passage, I’ve been waiting on someone to help me into the “water”. My statements might sound something like this, however…

-I can’t do this. It’s just too hard.

-Everyone around me seems to be oblivious to how deeply I’m hurting.

-It’s easier to just stay where I’m at. Grief work is too hard.

-I’m putting on weight again. I seem to be going in reverse of what I should be doing.

-I’ve tried everything, but nothing seems to work anymore.

-I want healing, and I’m just too tired to do anything about it. Nobody seems to understand that.

For me, “the water” represents that which I can never reach. Like the invalid, I’ve had moments where I’ve simply laid there waiting on someone to help me. But everyone would run right past me. Like the invalid, I got used to my circumstances and eventually fell prey to them. I allowed them to overtake me at times (i.e. food). Like the invalid, I somewhat gave up the fight. I felt it was useless…I would never reach the “water”.

But then the Holy Spirit quickened me with those words that wouldn’t go away. Do you want to get well?

When I studied this passage, I realized a couple of things…

1) The invalid DID want to get well. He was just “stuck” in his misery.

2) Jesus was the only one that could help him see the way out of his misery.

3) The man had to obey Jesus’ instructions to receive his healing.

4) The man no longer relied on anyone else to get to the healing waters. He stood up and walked.

5) The man didn’t need the waters to be healed…he needed the Savior.

So what am I supposed to do with this Lord? What are you trying to say?

Do you want to get well?

Yes, Lord! I do! I desperately do!

Then, start walking. Nobody else will carry you where you need to go. But, trust in what I tell you to do, and you will have the strength to do it…without the aid of the “healing waters”.

My healing may not yet be complete (and it may never be complete this side of heaven), but I’m walking friends…I’m putting one foot in front of the other, and I’m walking!

Cemetery Guilt

Do You Want to Get Well?