I Choose Suffering Here and Now, not Later.
Posted by divinemercy on Nov 4th, 2009
Please forgive this more personal post; I wanted to share a personal revelation I had last night.
A friend of mine posted the following:
http://www.devinrose.heroicvirtuecreations.com/blog/2009/11/02/all-souls-day/
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I wondered what I would prefer. Would I choose, if given the choice, to suffer here on earth or put it off until purgatory?
Before losing my daughter, I probably would have had the same response my friend did. I would rather continue enjoying my indulgences in this life and deal with the consequences later. Isn’t that how most of us feel about most things?
Now that I have experienced what I never imagined I would have to go through, and still am doubting that I can survive, I have a far different answer.
I have had for many years a special affection for the suffering souls in purgatory, and have read many accounts of their appearances to the Saints. I have read the writings about visions of purgatory and what one can expect. Despite all of the physical, mental and emotional suffering that is possible in this merciful afterlife ‘option’, it is believed that the greatest suffering a soul undergoes in purgatory in the yearning for God. It is the knowledge that God is there and that one’s soul is meant to be united with Him, but that this reunion must be postponed. It is the ‘in-your-face’ separation from God that one cannot deny that causes the most pain.
If this is true, then this kind of suffering is a suffering beyond our imaginations. It is pain that we cannot even fathom.
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My daughter was stillborn. We heard her heartbeat many times, watched her on the 20-week ultrasound, and I felt her moving within my womb. I had just gotten into my maternity clothes and had begun preparing the house for our new little one. And then no heartbeat could be found. The next ultrasound confirmed the fear; she was dead. I was admitted into the hospital that evening and labor was induced. I labored, pain and all, through out the night and into the next morning. I went though it all, only to deliver a dead child. And now, five weeks later, I am still in pain. I am still agonizing over what has happened. I am still struggling to get through the days, and it so very difficult to find any joy in anything, including my children here with me now (which is very scary to me). Losing my daughter the way I did has crushed me, and I honestly wonder how God can put these pieces back together. I know what it is like to feel truly empty inside, and to struggle to find any hope for the future.
So I reflect on purgatory and the suffering that takes place there. I realize that if I go through such incredible pain for the loss of another mere creature, one that I hardly knew, then the pain one experiences when they are knowingly separated from their very Creator must be excruciating. To know that my daughter exists, but that I cannot hold her, stroke her, kiss her, kills me. I now understand the Saints who yearned for death. I understand what it means to hate this world. I understand how unimaginably strong the yearning to be done with this place and to be with God must be. For if I feel this way for my child, the feelings that those Saints have had for God is spectacular. And to see Him face-to-face, to have one’s admission into heaven postponed, and then to have Him walkaway…I now know the meaning of unimaginable. And that is a pain that I never want to feel.
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When I first lost my daughter, I vowed that I would get to heaven no matter what it takes. I had to see her as soon as possible. But now I realize that it is not her that I should have this longing for, but God. And while I am still not on the most friendly of speaking terms with Him right now, the gift of knowledge that the Holy Spirit has graciously given me allows me to continue in the knowledge of what is true, even when I don’t want to think about it.
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I do not know what the Lord has in store; I am still unable to lift my head to look forward. What I do know is that I have had but a very small taste of the ultimate suffering, that of begin separated from the Creator. And if that is the type of suffering that purgatory has in-store, then I say no thank you. I just hope and pray that I can withstand the pains of this life that it is going to take to wash away my so many sins.
Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help or sought your intercession, was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, I fly to you, O Virgin of virgins, my mother: to you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen.
November 4th, 2009 at 12:31 pm
November 4th, 2009 at 6:56 pm
November 4th, 2009 at 7:11 pm
My doctor did offer this, and my midwife is actually the facilitator. The problem is: 1) I am not a social person and dread the thought. 2) The group meets in another city (where the hospital is) an hour away, once a month. Due to my husband’s rotating schedule, it would be a rare occasion when his schedule actually matched up with theirs and I would be able to attend. My doctor did tell me I could schedule a time to talk with her, but again, the distance and schedule thing. I do participate in a small, Catholic group online, but I doubt it is the same.
November 4th, 2009 at 7:57 pm
November 6th, 2009 at 1:26 pm
My friend suggested I look at your website as she realized we suffered from a similar issue – I too lost a child at 16 weeks, eight years ago. I remember the incredible pain I felt during that time. My child was diagnosed with a cystic hygroma at our second ultrasound. The doctors told me to terminate the pregnancy. I refused and after 2 months, our child, Marie Elizabeth, died and we delivered her. She was buried with my grandmother and now rests with my mother as well. Trust in God, for He is good. You have already gained such wisdom from this event and you share in God’s suffering, as He lost His only Son!
I lost a brother at birth and my family never forgot him. We remembered his birthday, we dreamed about him and we talked about what life would have been like with an older brother. I have carried that tradition on with my children. They know they have a sister in heaven. They think about her and long for her.
I think it is helpful for all of us to remember that we are all members of the Church and that even these little ones are waiting for us. It is hard to imagine that your future will not be as unbearable as it feels today, but with every day, grief lessens. That year was very difficult, particularly her due date, and indeed some days it was hard to get out of bed. I had 3 beautiful children to care for here on Earth and eventually, the grief lessened. Grief is a process that we must pass through, we cannot go around. I would recommend A Grief Unveiled by Gregory Lloyd about a father’s grief for the death of his son. I will keep you in my prayers. God Bless you.
November 7th, 2009 at 12:23 am