Good Grief
Good Grief
“Good Grief.” That is such an oxymoronic phrase people say sooo frequently.
“Good Grief! I’m so tired…”
“Good grief, will you STOP doing that?!”
“Good grief, the price of gas!”
The thing is…. Grief is everywhere. Not one person is exempt. And grief - while taxing and troublesome to go through - actually is good. What I’ve come to realize is that grief is the evidence of love and hope. It is evidence of life. And with Jesus, our love, hope, and very life is renewed again and again, even as we work through whatever grief we have. This is NOT just about death and the loss of a loved one. Grief comes from all sorts of loss: missed or lost opportunities, friendships that were broken or moved on from, misscarriage, separation or divorce, or when things don’t turn out how we’d hoped.
Basically grief comes simply and consistently throughout our lives. There are definitely times where it’s heavier or all-encompassing, and times where we can move on quickly, but whatever the experience is, grief is ever-present.
Grief for me currently is so so heavy, and I’ve tried locking it away and powering through, but it’s still there. And in fact NOW that I’m opening my heart to it more, and bringing it to Jesus, I’ve seen so much beauty and grace, and that’s why I’m sharing with you now.
As many or even most of you know, I lost my dad very unexpectedly in August of last year. He died after a 9 day stay in the hospital with Covid and I was the last person to see him consciously alive. It was just before he willingly chose to go on the ventilator in hopes of being able to rest his body and allow it to heal. Little did we know that would be our last conversation. Our last hug. Our last prayer together.
I say this because I wanted to show you the truth. This sets us up for this next part of our conversation. I have so much in my heart that I feel God has revealed to me even as I am full-fledged, up to my ears, sometimes 6 feet above my head full of this feeling of the deepest grief I’ve ever experienced in my life.
Through this time I have experienced isolation, even when being surrounded by people. I’ve experienced peace, and joy, and the sudden tsunamis of sorrow.
There’s so much that I could say, but where I’m landing at for now is this:
Allow yourself to feel however you feel. With whatever grief you are experiencing.
Especially as we enter into the holiday season, without the family you thought you’d have by now, or with the empty chair at the table, or with the loss of a job, first holiday on your own, whatever the case may be… KNOW that it’s OK to grieve.
Don’t flee from it.
Dont shame yourself for it.
One of the verses that gets used at funerals so often is in 1Thessalonians where it says, “do not grieve as those who have no hope…” and while I agree that yes, we do have hope, I don’t believe it’s saying “do not grieve.” We have to read the whole thought. But I feel like we take those three words and that’s where we stay. And the enemy uses it against us.
If we look at Jesus’ example, in Matthew 14, Jesus learns that his cousin, John the Baptist was killed and it says, “When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place.”
Jesus grieved. He withdrew to be alone with his heavenly Father.
I think this says SO MUCH about God’s heart. There was no rebuke, there was no shame, he needed a moment to breathe and be alone.
If you read about the life of Jesus you will see that he does this a LOT. He runs to the Father. Again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
This is something that I’m practicing myself. I’m far from perfect at it.. The temptation is to box it up, or be angry at myself, to keep pushing on through; but I’ve seen a change even in the last couple of weeks where I run to my Abba, Father God, and shut the door.
There is no shame, there is no rebuke, there is only peace, love, and hope. After I allow that time, I feel lighter, and am able to continue with my day.
Two resources to mention as I end this. The first is a song that has been on repeat for a few weeks, and honestly off and on throughout this entire last year. It’s called “Run to the Father,” by Cody Carnes. It’s so beautiful.
The second is your community. This community. Faith Church. Our staff, our people. We’re more than just a “See you Sunday” kind of group. If you are feeling alone, if you’re struggling, we would be honored to sit with you. Grab coffee or tea, pray with you, or even simply listen. Sometimes having someone to just listen is the greatest gift of all.
Lastly if you know of someone who is in a season of grief, know this:
Absence is more painful than someone’s imperfect presence, and silence is more wounding than someone’s awkward attempts at offering comfort.
Don’t discount yourself as being unqualified to help. Even sitting in silence is a gift. When it comes to grief we’re all novices. No one has the right words. We can’t fix it. But loving someone and comforting them is so much more than that. It’s being with them.
Sometimes the being is what’s needed most.
