Sit With Me in the Dark

In my current season of life, I am attempting to navigate a world filled with medications I can barely pronounce, feeding tube and oxygen alarms beeping, and hospice nurse visits weekly for my three-year-old son. On my best days, my world can still be quite dark. It’s not a fun story to tell. I have often caught myself sharing too much information to people, only to make them speechless and uncomfortable. And I get it. Before this experience, I likely would have had the same response.

But what do I need most in this life experience?

I need you to sit with me in the dark.

I can only imagine how tough this is to do. We are equipped to stay as far away from pain as humanly possible. But that’s the thing; there is no hiding from it. We will all experience different levels of pain during different seasons of our life. So we need to sit, and we need to hear, we need to read, we need to walk our journeys together because, “Grief shared is halved, and joy shared is doubled.” We need to do life together.

I think one of the biggest challenges we face when we sit with someone in the dark is that we don’t know what to say to the person experiencing pain. But I will let you in on a little secret. Are you ready for it?

There is nothing that you could say that would take my pain away. BIG BREATH IN.

This is not your responsibility nor is it in your ability to do so. The only words that could remove my pain would be, “Your son is no longer sick.” Since these words cannot be spoken, please give yourself some grace in knowing that your words will NEVER fall short. Your good wishes, messages of support, and acts of love are completely covered in grace and speak directly to our hearts. In many ways they lessen our burden by strengthening our joy.

But if you are worrying about saying the right thing, please don’t hold yourself responsible. Instead, sit in the dark with your loved one. Listen to what they have to say by listening to hear, instead of listening to respond.

When we allow ourselves to do this, we join the journey. We allow the story to make an impact in our lives. We make purpose out of pain. I am constantly humbled and amazed by how natural this has been for many of you.

Thankful for each one of you. Thanks for sitting with me in the dark.

Katie Wharton is a mama of two kiddos, one on earth and one in heaven. Her youngest passed away at the age of four years old due to complications of Batten Disease. She shares her heart and perspective to bring awareness to Batten’s Disease and the grief journey of a bereaved parent. You can follow her story on Facebook at Growing with Love—Seth’s Story or her blog Growing with Love.