Loss. It’s a season of life we all experience at some point in our journey. It’s the tearing apart of someone or something we once thought secure. When we are deprived of someone we love, this stone of Grief and Loss can seem impossible to navigate.
We considered ourselves fortunate to have enjoyed Don for seven years beyond his diagnosis. It was a long goodbye, full of peaks and valleys, laughter and tears.
Even so, Nothing prepared me for widowhood. I was in denial when he passed and still believed he would be with us much longer.
I wasn’t emotionally prepared for the free-fall into grief.
Crying on the Curb
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you; for I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. Do not fear, for I am with you. —Isaiah 41:1-3, 5
After a loss, after the flurry of family, friends, phone calls, and dinners, we see the rest of the world going on around us and realize our own life has come to a standstill.
My world looked different now.
Without Don, the road was alien, crooked, with no familiar signposts.
Existing alone in this foreign place caught me off balance. Unable to find stable footing, I was disoriented and confused. I couldn’t concentrate.
I was forgetful and easily distracted, finding my mind had stopped listening to the world around me. At times I felt my grief subsiding, only to have it suddenly rear its intrusive head in the middle of a sentence.
On occasion, the tears would flow when friends would ask how I was doing, even in the middle of the grocery store. They were so good to me; they never minded. I, too, have always thought it a tremendous privilege to have a friend or stranger cry in my presence.
They reminded me of a story I heard told by Christian radio host Paul Harvey.
When a little girl came home late, her mother scolded her for not returning when told. Her daughter replied, “Oh, Mommy, I couldn’t leave my friend all by herself, because her dolly was broken.”
“Well, honey,” her Mommy asked, “what could you do to fix it?”
“Nothing. I just sat on the curb and cried with her.”
I tried to think of friends who had walked this road before me, friends I could call on to sit on the curb with me, but I was the first one in our group of friends to lose a spouse. It was then the Lord seemed to whisper, “Jo, do not go to others. I am here. Come to Me for help.”
Remembering to Remember
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely, I will help you. Surely I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.—Isaiah 41:10
What do we do with our grief? What do we do while we march in place without moving forward? What do we do while awaiting God’s guidance?
As the first of my friends to undertake this journey, it wasn’t long before I discovered it is a solitary journey each of us must make on our own. We cannot go around the mountain; we have to go through it. No one can do the hard work of grief for us, but we do have the Holy Spirit with us to give comfort and courage.
It is a path one must follow step-by-step, alone with the Lord, allowing the Holy Spirit to have His way with us while creating deep furrows in our soul.
When learning simply to exist in the eye of the storm of grief, the term “dark night of the soul” is not too strong.
“I can do all things through You, Who strengthens me.” —Philippians 4:13
Some of you may need a life rope right now. You may be so lost in the depths of grief that you can’t see your way out. I want to tell you as gently as I can what I have learned about loss: there is no way out—only through.
Not to go through is to miss the blessing.
The day of the following journal entry, I was where you are now. The Holy Spirit nudged me to see our pastor, the one who presided over Don’s memorial service and the men’s group which Don had attended weekly.
“June 4, 2002:
Today I visited Pastor Pete. He helped me to see God’s Plan…The BIG Picture…to keep my grief of losing Don SECOND to my love for the Lord.
Pastor challenged me to ‘remember to remember’: Don is more than okay. He is with Jesus in Heaven. I can always summon his memory; I can always have him close.
God loves me just the way I am, grieving mess and all! God comforts me and understands my sorrow in the grief of giving Don up to Him.
…And God asks, “Will you praise Me, Jo, even if I take Don away from you?”
“Yes, Lord! I will praise you in all circumstances.”
Grief by Faith
“In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us.” —Romans 8:37
Reader, I pray that you too will “remember to remember.”
In your time of grief, God is also asking you, “Will you love Me and trust Me no matter what I send you?” The race of life only ends when we are in eternity with Christ. Becoming conquerors through Him that loved us (Romans 8:37) can only happen through journeys of struggle and crisis. My desert journey (1995-2002) flowed into my journey of loss and grief (2002-2005).
I could not have made it through the storm without my sovereign God.
The Father who wants to shoulder our griefs. The one who ever held out his Hand to me.
And when and I reached for it, I crossed the threshold by faith, trusting His strength instead of my own.
Once again, God proved to me that He is so faithful.
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