I had a sad day...

“I had a sad day.” My toddler slumps his shoulders and furrows his brows.

My lip twists, not quite sure how to respond. Should I change the subject? Talk about this until he gets distracted? Why can’t I remember any advice from parenting books!!

“Hmm,” I rub his tangled curls and offer a hug. I think about his statement, still not sure what to say.

The next morning, as we squish together on our stained leather couch, surrounded by legos and books, he reaches for his children’s Bible. We flip through the stories of Moses, David, and Matthew, and onto the last chapter, the promise that one day there will be no more sadness.

He leans against me, his chest slowly rising up and down and I smile when I see these words, “There will be no more death or sadness or crying or pain. I will live with my people forever.”

“Look James, no more sadness!” I point to the picture, hoping he makes the connection.

He nods, clings to his little green blanket, and eats his fruit snacks. We flip through a few more books and move onto more toys.

That night we gather around the messy dinner table cluttered with bottles and crumbs and ask, “James, how was your day?” he plays with his soup and replies, “Mmm, I had a saaaad day.”

I exhale and think about the story we read in the morning. How do I explain theological truths to a three year old? How do I teach that this life isn’t forever, that this earth isn’t our home. There will be a day with no more sickness, no more death, and no more pain.

No more sadness.

I don’t remember what happened next, but if I could respond again, I would look him in the eyes and whisper,

“I’m sorry you’re having a sad day. Mommy can’t fix everything, I can’t always find your favorite blanket, bring daddy home at 2pm, or find one more bag of fruit snacks.

But I know someone who can heal our pain, & He wants to hear about your sad day.”

“Well, I've got no answers
For heartbreaks or cancers
But a Savior who suffers them with me
Singing goodbye, Olympus
The heart of my Maker
Is spread out on the road, the rocks, and the weeds”

John Mark McMillan

• A friend recommended this pulitzer prize winning book, and it’s so good! I’ve never thought about this from a doctor’s perspective. He wrestles through the implications of sickness and moral considerations. His story takes place at Stanford University, a large, local hospital.

• When I get sad, it’s often because I’m scrolling through troubling content. This month I’m leaving Francis Chan’s book, Beloved by my nightstand and trying to fall asleep to encouraging promises instead of discouraging headlines.

• When I’m really discouraged, I turn on an Ellie Holcomb album. Her combination of Scripture + metaphor is so beautiful.

• Whitney K. Pipkin’s book on grief & death is another great resource as she navigates her mother’s sickness and passing. Find more here, or read the full book.

Listen Here

*Find all books here.

For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd;
‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’
‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’ Rev 7:17

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Unscripted.”