Meeting Grief Face To Face

Revelation 21:4  He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.

Grieving is a place. I have spent a lot of time hanging out there, like an ill person spends time in a waiting room.  Uncertainty sits with me. My list of reasons is long. I was invited there by circumstances always out of my control. But isn’t that who grief is? The uninvited guest. The enemy. The one we never want to meet. Just like a diagnosis we never saw coming.

Ever. 

But being human, in a human occupied world, at some point I promise you will meet. 

Grief comes bearing gifts of doubt,  shame, regrets, long dark nights and buckets of rage, fear and tears mixed – so twisted up, mangled as it engulfs any part of any thing that resembles the “before” you. You will never be the same. 

Each encounter with grief is different. There are no perfect answers. Just like someone standing on the beach with the sun in their eyes can’t guide you safely through the underwater reefs they can’t see. There is no way for someone to guide you  when the grief is hiding in places in you that aren’t visible to anyone. 

But there is one truth I can with all certainty share with you. One truth that I have been able to apply through every face of grief I have met. 

Through my divorce. Katrina recovery. Family members with serious drug addiction, sitting in rehab centers, mental illness, hospitals, halfway houses and all the tragedy, sadness and grief we have met there. The tremors of grief still awaken and come back to raise new challenges. My daughter’s divorce and teens dealing with choices their dad made. Five miscarriages in three years. One grandson who is autistic. Gratefully, high functioning, but facing real struggles every day. 

Losing six of my people in one year. 

One has to wonder how it’s possible to survive. 

This week marks the fifth anniversary of my mom’s death. She suffered horribly for sixteen days after an accident in the nursing home van. As grateful as we were to have those last few days with her, my heart nearly exploded with joy when the hospice nurse checking her pulse looked up and announced she was gone from us. Physically, yet always near in spirit. My joy was deep because i knew she was now healed for eternity. Her physical suffering was unbearable for her and the helplessness we felt – I pray we never have to experience again. 

Many times in the depth of helplessness I remember begging God to carry me through. And then there were times I pushed Him away, only to come back as I realized how futile my own attempts were. Wondering if it would be possible for Him to use me as a vessel to share His healing goodness with others experiencing deep grieving. Speaking of the hope that CAN be found there. I continued that prayer asking Him not to let any of it be wasted. I felt the need to make it matter. It became important to me. 

This is why I want you to know the places I have met grief and lived to tell about it. I pray for the same outcome for you. 

There was a time when wave after wave kept coming and I was drowning. I stayed in the Bible. I kept demanding answers. I cried at God. I yelled at Him. I demanded the outcome be what I chose. I withdrew. I hid my true feelings and anger from the world.

And . . . from myself. 

But from this side of the waves, I can tell you I am glad God is God – and I am not. 

Remember that person standing on the beach? The best illustration I can share is this. Someone who I could not see clearly because the sun in my eyes all but blinded me. I yelled for help not knowing it was Jesus. And you know what happened? 

He guided me through the maze of grief because He saw every reef under the water. He saw every obstacle. He knew the places deep inside me that would cause me to stumble and lose the battle. He came into every place – every hurting, wounded and terrified place and brought peace to them. It has taken a long time. Years to be able to understand that grief, caused by circumstances out of my control, was brought under control by the presence of Jesus. 

Meeting grief was not the worst thing that has happened to me. The worst thing would have been to have encountered it and not met the Jesus I know today – there in the midst of the mess. 

This is what I want to leave you with today. A big virtual hug and the gift of what I have learned in the midst of a lot of grief. 

There is a hope in the darkness. There is a hope when you reach for Jesus and rest as He guides you through. The waiting room serves a purpose – a place where we give the hurting parts of us to the great Healer – the one who heals us for eternity – just like my mom was healed that day.

There  will be no more tears – imagine that.

No matter the circumstances of your grief or if you have never yet encountered it, know that you can survive and  even learn to thrive in appreciation for how it changed your relationship with God. No longer enemies, but having made peace, we will finish our journey together.