We are seven months into our grief over losing our daughter, Rachel. Last week was particularly hard for all three of us, my husband, myself, and my son-in-law. I’m not sure why we were all crying and feeling her loss so much this past week. We all
seemed very grateful to begin a new week, this past Monday. I had my grandson, Aiden with me this past weekend and beginning of the week, which helped me remember life still goes on. Joy can still spring up within my sorrow.
Periodically, my husband and I are reading books about grief, while reading other less heavy materials. Each book I consume, helps me stay connected to my sorrow and helps process it as well. Though God never seems to tire of the continuing conversation about this subject, I still do. I want sometimes to rush to the end of my grief. Until he gently reminds me of the Psalms in my bible and Lamentations. I am allowed to lament. To grieve. To mourn. It’s okay, even good for me to do so.
Valentine’s Day is approaching and it’s particularly hard to face this holiday because my daughter enjoyed it so much. She had culinary, bakery skills to the extreme, a gift I do not share, and so much joy in decorating cookies and cakes too delightful to eat. But we always did. I can hear her still planning for this holiday in my head, and how she’d plan to demonstrate her love for Ben, her husband in some special way. This Valentine’s Day, he will be alone again. I can only pray God expresses the love he needs in her absence.
As we move into the second half of the first year, I am beginning to see a shift in friends, who still try to convey their care for us, but it is mixed sometimes with those who seem to want us to rush to the finish line of our grief. To arrive at a new place of happiness and joy. I know this grief journey is not a race, and I don’t really have a set destination in mind. The journey through it seems to matter more. God seems to agree. I am drawn to not remove myself from the sadness, the memories, or the sorrow, because the process is part of the healing.
I saw a photo of my daughter, on a beach with her camera, taking photos of friends. Something she loved to do. I was struck momentarily by the reality that we won’t be on a beach together again, and she won’t be taking any more new photos. I keep wondering how I’ll replace the relationship I have lost with her. I have my memories, but, Oh, how I miss her actual presence, her smile, her laugh, and yes, her cookies.
So, I wrestle with the sorrow of missing her, of wishing for a replacement daughter, a ‘replica’ of her in my life, until God reminds me, she’s good, she’s happy, she’s with Him, and anything I need to know he can assure me of, and any replacement of care I need, he can and does provide. He promises me joy comes in the morning, even if it follows yet another night of mourning.
My sorrow helps me ask, how others are doing? What’s going on in their lives? To connect with friends and reconnect with life. It helps to steer me away from self absorption. Reading books about grief, helps me visit my grief in a productive way, so my devotions with God become less of complaint sessions and more of a conversation about comfort and persevering through my sorrow.
Life doesn’t just dump grief and loss on some of us, but all of us, and we can use our time in grief to benefit ourselves and others both now and later. Lessons along with simply listening to God in the midst of my sorrow brings me to subjects and questions I doubt I’d otherwise raise with Him. I daily find out how much and how little I believe about all that I do believe as I wrestle with this sorrow and it’s effects on my faith. My faith is strengthened in this process, as is my intimate relationship with Christ. Our time together is precious even if it is somber right now.
Each day forward, I see a little more light, the darkness of my sorrow weighs me down a little less and I know, this wrestling with my sorrow will be helpful no matter how it feels right now. For I remember Isaiah 53:4 says, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” I know God is well acquainted with much sorrow and therefore he knows best how to carry me through mine. I’m so grateful for his tender care.
The book I am reading about grief right now is, ‘Dark Clouds Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament’ by Mark Vroegop. It is helping me learn the lost art of lament that we find in the bible, and learning to express my sorrow to God in ways that build up my faith instead of weakening it. I long to share more soon about how I am learning to lament well, over this loss and others. Don’t be afraid to wrestle with you sorrow, it can be a significant part of your spiritual growth.
As I learn to Lament,
Susan
P.S. How are you wrestling with your sorrow?