I was driving last weekend and the Lord led me to this thought:
Grief is not a problem to be fixed, it is a process to be fostered.
I am in that process.
For me, it is a different type of grief than the death of a loved one, it is the grief of change in relationships. While there are details that make it harder than I expected, I was aware I was going to be grieving at this time of my life. My oldest is about to graduate, and I have home schooled her almost all of her life. There are specific things I am really concerned about for her, things that are for the most part out of my hands and in her’s and God’s. We are very close and she is going away to college in the fall. She won’t even be that far, but I know that I am going to lose a piece of myself not only as she goes, but as she grows. She is becoming whoever she is going to be. I am going to eventually have to get to know her again and what I have with her, and who she is, and who we are together, very well might be very different. The precious thing about this is knowing our attachment is so real…otherwise, my heart wouldn’t feel so happy and sad, excited and terrified, at the same time.
It’s important, in grief work, to understand that there is no going back to normal. I know that sounds really sad, and that sadness, that gravity of reality, is hard. But even that is important in the process. Thinking we can go back to normal should never be our goal; in fact, that would be quite insane, right? We would never actually get there, yet keep wondering why. It’s impossible and we have to eventually accept that. Time, hurt, bringing things to the surface, prayer, understanding people’s real feelings and choices (whether we like them or not), and the process of grief transform us, for the good or the bad, but we never actually get to go back. Instead, here’s the hope-filled part: As we allow grief its rightful time in our life, we catch glimpses and ideas and even dreams of what the next phase, the next “normal”, can look like. There is a life beyond this one, even here on earth. Phases and seasons…we can learn to love them.
God made us resilient. He really did. That is in each of us, by the grace of God. There are gifts I have found in grief…Here are a few:
-The gift of allowing myself to feel everything, without guilt or cheering myself up
-The gift of tears
-The gift of sleep (especially important in the early hours of traumatic events)
-The gift of unexpected silliness or laughter, which is never anything to feel guilty about
-The gift of time, how remembering events, words, and sensations becomes gradually less shocking, jarring, and stabbing (Depending on the severity of the trauma or loss, the longer this takes, but it does happen, by God’s grace.)
-The gift of truth to hold onto
-The gift of the closeness and comfort of God, and the knowledge that we don’t have to do anything but let Him be there with us
-The gift of friends, family, and community
-The gift of counseling
-The gift of acceptance
-The gift of faith
-The gift of slowing down
-The gift of just sitting and looking out the window and letting it all pass, as uncomfortable as the stillness might be
-The gift of knowing such a love in the first place
-The gift of knowing perfection was never needed, regrets can dissolve, there is grace
We don’t have to know it all. We don’t have to contain in ten steps how to grieve properly and get back on our feet again. We just don’t get control like we want. But there is good, there is God, in it all.
“Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21
