Grief is hard. There are no words to erase our earthly pain, but there is an eternal reality where our loved ones are being held perfectly whole by our Savior. In this three day devotional with Casting Crowns, you will walk through loss, acknowledge our hurts, and remember Jesus for who He is – a loving, gracious God who holds us when we fall apart.
Provident
Day 1
Scriptures: Psalms 145:4, Proverbs 13:22
The song “Scars in Heaven” was originally called “The Better Parts of Me.” The thought came from a conversation with my mom after she cared for her parents as they passed away within several months of each other. They were both believers, and Mom and I wound up talking about the idea of leaving a legacy.
Mom brought up my song, “Only Jesus,” and how its chorus says we shouldn’t want to leave a legacy that points to ourselves. Rather, we want our earthly lives, both now and forever, to point to Jesus. Mom reflected on her mother’s life. My grandmother was a terrific cook. She had a huge heart for others and volunteered as a “Pink Lady” at her local hospital. She loved clogging. If you’re not Southern, you may not know that clogging is like Bluegrass Riverdance with huge dresses and tap shoes. The music and flurry of clogging made her beam.
Yet of all the pursuits at which my grandmother excelled, her lasting imprint is the prayer life my mother enjoys now. Mom developed her own walk with Jesus in part through the spiritual osmosis of modeling my grandmother’s disciplines. Mom recalled how my grandmother always read the devotional booklet Open Windows. She kept her Bible by her chair, where she would sit, read, and pray daily. Those consistent acts of devotion to her Lord are what stuck most with my mom.
“The best parts of her,” Mom said, “are the best parts of me.”
We are bound to go the way of all men. We too will pass from this world. The question is what are we doing to point people to Jesus, to the only One who matters, both now and for eternity? It is possible to so construct and order our lives to pass down a heritage of obedience, submission, and service to Jesus. It is possible that those best parts of us become the best parts of the loved ones we leave behind. In the end, it is all that matters.
Day 2
Scripture: Luke 24:36-43
When we lose a loved one, the grief can be so painful and overwhelming that we don’t know where to turn. I’ve heard people in deep grief say it literally hurt to breathe. Only God’s Word has the strength to bear up under such weight.
Luke 24:36-43 really grabbed my heart and helped spark this song. After Jesus rises from the dead, he appears to his disciples in the Upper Room. He reveals the marks of crucifixion in his hands and feet to show that he is a living being and not an apparition. Jesus has to prove himself because of the disciples’ reaction when they first see him standing in the middle of a locked room without walking through an open door.
When Jesus tells them, “Peace be with you,” they do not have a file in their heads for what is happening. They saw him crucified. They saw him buried. And now he’s back. How? No one comes back from the dead. While they’re processing the moment, Jesus comforts them by showing them what? The risen Savior still has something to remind them of where He was and who He is. He shows them His scars.
When I read that passage, a thought hit me. I said to myself, “Oh wow. Jesus still has the scars.” Jesus was already in his glorified body in the Upper Room and yet He still had the scars. That’s exactly the reason we don’t have pain in heaven—because He took it all. His scars are there to remind us why all the heartache is not. They forever will be a constant reminder of how we even got there to be with Him.
When we lose someone, our faith and comfort will come from the Father. It’s not going to come from something or someone here on Earth. All we see are reminders that we no longer have our loved ones. We have to ask God to help us release our ideas of who we knew that loved one to be in their flesh, and we have to focus on who they are now. They are with Jesus. They have a glorified body just like their Savior. And they are being held by the hands that bear the only scars in Heaven.
Day 3
Scriptures: Revelation 21:9-27, Revelation 22:1-5
The song “Scars in Heaven” actually was born within another song 14 years ago. On Casting Crowns’ album, The Altar and the Door, we recorded a song called “Wedding Day.” As I wrote the bridge for “Wedding Day,” out popped a line that immediately made me think, “Whoa. That’s big.”
“When the hand that bears the only scars in heaven touch her face, and the last tears that she’ll ever cry are finally wiped away….”
The thought of Jesus having the only scars in heaven was healing for me. It reminded me of two huge truths in the face of the death of loved ones. First, our ultimate healing does come, and God is not unaware of my grief and my pain, and He is with me in it. Second, the Spirit of Jesus who is with them is literally in me, and I can rest in that truth.
The struggle for many believers is that faith requires we believe in a place we’ve never seen before. Heaven is mostly abstract to us because we’ve never been there or seen a photo of it. We’ve seen God do great things here on Earth, but we have no physical reference point for our eternal home. We have a brief but almost incomprehensible description at the end of the book of Revelation, but for the human mind, we’re left mostly with sky-in-crayon pictures. We have no concept for it; it’s just somehow up there.
One moment somebody concrete whom you loved was right in front of you, and now they’re…there. Wherever that is.
Heaven has always been this beautiful, massive thought—until somebody we love goes there. Then we have more questions: “What is up there? What are they doing?” We don’t quite know what to do with it. That’s when God’s Word and steadfast faith come in. We have to allow the Holy Spirit to calm us, and we have to rest in Him. We may literally have to speak aloud that we’re going to trust in the Lord, no matter our feelings, no matter what.
The people we love are resting in Him if they knew Jesus, and we have to trust in His promises and rest in Him as well. To me, this song feels like a sigh. It’s like the release of giving ourselves the permission to admit that, yes, we’re hurting, and this isn’t going to go away in a day. It’s impossible to grieve and leave. But we have to accept the fact that our loved ones are with Jesus, and Jesus is in us, and we will see them again.