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Come, sit in the ashes with me
For Job, it was in this moment of deep pain, that three of his friends come and sat with him. They took on the signs of mourning themselves. They tore their robes and threw dust on their heads.
And they sat.
For seven days, they didn’t say a word because they knew there simply were no words.
Rediscovering joy in the changing seasons
I don’t like that my thoughts have turned all melancholy. But you know, it’s ok that they have. Just because the sun is out and the snow is melting doesn’t mean that I have to be happy, happy, joy, joy. Grief and sadness over what or who we have lost simply won’t allow it. And that’s ok. That’s part of what it means to be human and to love.
Exposed grief
We have learned to share our joys because to do otherwise is dangerous. When we are honest about our struggles, the longings which cause us to stare off into the distance, the questions and doubts causing us to re-think what we believed to be true, or how we are still struggling with the loss that rocked our world, our honesty is often dismissed. We can be made feel like our pain, as well as our faith, are being attacked.
Grieving with the world
It can be difficult when events in the world, both near and far, bring up the familiar feelings and emotions of grief. Sometimes the events remind us of our own losses, and we grieve who or what we have lost all over again. We find it easy, perhaps too easy, to empathize with those who are suffering. We know too well what it’s like to have our worlds turned up upside-down and inside out.
From Onward to Inside Out, children’s movies speak the language of grief
I grieved as I watched Riley try to make sense of what was happening, knowing my own children had gone through similar struggles. I will never watch that movie without feeling a little sadness.
It’s the other losses that are going to break me
A reality of living with a loss is that it’s not the only thing that gets changed. Everything else around us changes too. We grieve our primary loss, such as the death of our person, job loss, divorce, changes in our health…
These can traumatic enough. But, there are other losses which come also. They are often called secondary losses, and their impact intrudes in areas we had thought were safe.
Letting the “should’ves” go
“You most likely did the best you could at the time with what you knew. Life is complicated. Troubles don’t take a number, and they don’t wait for their turn. They happen while we are busy with our jobs, our commitments, our families… life. It is difficult to focus on only one thing all the time, or to see the whole picture at once. If you are living with regrets and guilt, I invite you to offer yourself the same grace you would invite others to live into.”
Life Now
But, what happens when we can’t see the good things and joy of today because they are clouded over by the anger and pain of our grief? What do we do when we can’t let down our guard and defenses against another shoe dropping and causing more pain?
How do we quit allowing the grief to hollow out our lives?
Grief is something I never asked for
So many times I sat at our kitchen bar and wept as I read words I needed to hear. Words I wish had been spoken over a younger me when my mom died, I moved away from home for the first time, my husband and I had a miscarriage, and so many other losses. I wept knowing it was now my task to walk with others and help make their way a little less painful.