“I am confined and cannot escape; my eyes are dim with grief. I call to you, O LORD, every day; I spread out my hands to you.” Psalm 88:8-9
Five days until we end our ninth month since Becky died. I’m struggling again. I try to think into ‘why’ I’m back in a grief black-hole and I really don’t know. I’m hoping that if I can figure out what brings this on I can avoid it in the future. I want to be done with tears over nothing and everything. I want to be over being sensitive in my relationships. I want to enjoy life and people and the world around me again and not feel compelled to hole up somewhere curled in a little ball. I want to miss Becky, but not in a debilitating way.
This grief that assaults me is not welcome. It feels incredibly selfish. It doesn’t seem healthy to just pretend it isn’t there, but it also seems neurotic to sink into it and wallow. It calls to me to reject adjustment and change and accommodation and instead to lash out in anger at that which I can’t change. I feel like a two year old not getting my way.
Do I rage at grief and hope it turns tail tucked between its legs and leaves? Do I command it to leave in the name of Jesus? Do I embrace it and spend some time in grief’s dark womb? Do I eat it away gradually becoming the size of my sorrow? Do I somehow die to grief so that I can go on living?
No answers right now just questions clothing deep sorrow. And life goes on . . .
“But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to you; you are the helper of the fatherless.” Psalms 10:14
My thoughts and prayers follow you through this dark journey. I call it the valley of grief and liken it to the valley of death. Loving you in the Fathers’ name
Thanks Cheryl — I know you understand! I also know I’ll get through it thanks in part to your testimony and the testimony of others who’ve gotten through!
Our life is a short time in expectation, a time in which sadness and joy kiss each other at every moment. There is a quality of sadness that pervades all the moments of our lives. It seems that there is no such thing as a clear-cut pure joy, but that even in the most happy moments of our existence we sense a tinge of sadness. In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of limitations. In every success, there is the fear of jealousy. Behind every smile, there is a tear. In every embrace, there is loneliness. In every friendship, distance. And in all forms of light, there is the knowledge of surrounding darkness . . . But this intimate experience in which every bit of life is touched by a bit of death can point us beyond the limits of our existence. It can do so by making us look forward in expectation to the day when our hearts will be filled with perfect joy, a joy that no one shall take away from us.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen, Making All Things New: An Invitation to the Spiritual Life
I am praying for you as you journey through this pilgrimage of grief. Henri Nouwen’s books were so helpful to me in looking into my grief and embracing what the lord would have me do with it.
Excellent thoughts Stephanie! Thank you for sharing. Your quote would work well on what I’m posting tomorrow too — a post that is responding to encouragement from people today! Bless you Sister!
Please send your email address.
I need to contact you about
THIS IS NOT TO BE POSTED
Hi Sharon, my email address is firstname.lastname@example.org.
I read your entry on resurrection online and would love to publish the poem “For You Have Done It” in Radix magazine. (www.radixmagazine.com).
We can’t pay contributors, but will send you copies, with your permission to proceed.
The poem would work well in our Lenten issue. But we need to hear from you soon.
Sharon Gallagher Editor Radix magazine
Thank you for asking Sharon. This is Claudia Lee and you have my permission to use the poem.