As [Rachel] breathed her last — for she was dying — she named [her newborn son] Ben-Oni. But his father named him Benjamin. — Genesis 35:18
I always feel a great sense of sorrow when I read this passage. I imagine a man, first on the run because of his brother, now later on the run because of his sons, with no permanent home. Here, on the way, he pauses to watch his wife die.
What can he do? He has no permanent home, so all he can do is bury her on the way, pile up some stones, and walk away to probably never see his wife’s grave again.
Sixteen years ago, Kim and I were homeless — for eight months we stayed in a friend’s basement some of the time, in my parents’ house some of the time, a little bit here and a little bit there. And sixteen years ago this summer my wife experienced her second of several miscarriages.
I remember standing at the bottom of the basement steps, looking at my wife, afraid to spend too much time in this family’s one bathroom, feeling so desolate and so alone. To be honest, life seemed bitter and cruel that day, and I think part of my heart closed to keep out the pain.
"Son of my sorrow" or "son of my right hand."
Jacob stood there at the great divide looking at the end of one life and the beginning of another and made the decision to look forward. He changed his son’s name to reflect the future, not the past.
Even in our sorrow, God has a great store of hope, and He is not sparing with His children.
Kim and I have four children here on earth and that many in heaven. I often think about them. What will I learn from them? I know they are beautiful and I can’t wait to meet them.
Be encouraged!
Dwight
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