On Christmas Eve, 2022, this was the photo I used to do the unimaginable and announce on social media that my beloved son, Joey, had left this earth. In the initial fog of grief, war, and shock, I wrote a few lines, ending with the Job 13:15 quote—”Thou he slay me, yet I will trust him.” I knew what I was talking about, and yet I knew nothing about what I was talking about—it was everything all at once. I had read the entire book of Job many times before, and I never understood it as much as I did on that Christmas Eve. Now, three years later, I see that I knew basically squat.
I’ve been struggling through the Old Testament of the Bible, chapter by chapter, for quite some time, and now, “coincidentally,” I’ve finally come to Job—it’s literally on the next page—and it feels like a strange treat. I certainly hadn’t planned the timing this way. While Job is one of the all-time heartbreaking stories, it’s also a character I identify with and one who has always—way before Joey left us—comforted me.
If you are unfamiliar with Job, spoiler alert: At the end of the book, Job’s understanding had flown over seas and summits, from demanding answers for his sudden, unimaginable loss to a new, profound sense of his own teeny, mostly ignorant knowledge compared to the goodness and sovereignty of God. Job was transformed and began the most intimate relationship with his creator, one he had no idea he needed or wanted. Job saw that we live in the upside-down, and through his excruciating pain, God turned him right-side up.
The sign on Joey’s forehead in the photo is the title of U2’s song, “With or Without You.” It was my statement, too, and it was both defiant and obedient—everything all at once.
Over the course of my life, during the holiday season, I’ve heard the classic “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” countless times. I had never imagined the sting of a Christmas song. I want so desperately for Joey to be home, here with us. It is a moment-by-moment practice to remind myself that he is. Here. There. All at once.