Christian Living, Guest Posts & Blog Collabs

Tears, Testimonies, and Trust: a Guest Post

Hey, it’s me, Danny! Don’t worry I’m still totally alive! Hehe. I’ve just been very. . . busy. And that’s to anyone who was wondering why I’m posting so late and why it’s not even my post that I’m publishing. 

ANYWAY, I found someone on Ydubs (you’ve heard me talk about it before) who has a message I think some people may need to hear, especially during this pandemic, so I’m sharing it with you guys. I pray that this short but meaningful note will give you hope and peace. Alright, take it away, Eleyna Bennett!

***

It’s impossible to describe what it feels like for someone you love to die. Imagine your entire future, your plans for marriage, college, jobs, everything, just gone. Without that person in your life, nothing will ever be the same.

During those days my brother was in hospice, time slowed down. With family members and friends all around me, all here for him in his final moments. Nothing beyond the next minute, the next hour, the next day mattered.

I read a chapter of one of my favorite books to him. I had a mini sleepover with him one night. We watched a movie marathon together as a family. Every second was about him and his precious moments.

I walked into his bedroom, and saw my dad handing my brother to my grandpa. Grandpa was crying. For just a moment, I felt hope. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked. My aunt put her hand on my shoulder and said he was gone.

For weeks after that, and until the burial, I couldn’t find any peace. I fell asleep at night to his face, dreamt of it, and thought about it every waking moment. He had Leukemia, a brain issue. He never spoke or communicated, never ate or moved or did anything without help. So I had known somewhere in the back of my mind that he was living on borrowed time.

Up until that moment, I had relied on my parents’ testimonies to guide me spiritually. But with my brother gone, I now had a lot of personal searching to do. I was worried that I would never see my brother again.

I read my scriptures and said my prayers every day for a week. I didn’t find much relief or comfort. Eventually I had to search my own life for Him.

I learned that my parents were told that my brother would only live to be 2 years old. When he passed his second birthday, they said 4 at the most. When he died, he was 13, 2 years older than me. I was grateful for the time I had with him, and could thank Christ.

I knew that I couldn’t be happy for his death. Even though I knew I would see him again, I knew I would have to live without him. I could however celebrate his life, and long for when I could see him running and playing again.

I still do. I know that my brother is now with my Father, and he is happier than he was trapped in his broken body here on earth.

-Eleyna Bennett

***

To those who are or were struggling with something like Eleyna was, I hope that this message touched you, one way or another. I know many of you out there are dealing with similar things. Well, that’s all I have today. Thank you, Eleyna, for this touching message! Goodnight (or morning or whenever you’re reading this). *waves as large red curtain closes*

With God’s help,

Daniel L. Amador

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