Living More

“You are God’s children whom he loves, so try to be like him.  Live a life of love just as Christ loved us and gave himself for us as a sweet-smelling offering and sacrifice to God.” Ephesians 5:1-2

I recently preached a sermon in a small church outside my hometown.  The sermon was titled “More Like Jesus.”  The focus of the sermon was to become more like Jesus in the dailyness of life not just in rituals and disciplines of the faith.  Being aware of God’s presence in the moments of life.

As I have walked this journey of grief and life, I have finally accepted that God just loves me.  It is not based on how much I do for Him or how many tasks or disciplines I fulfill.  God loves me for me.  I am His child.  God did not punish me for not being good enough.  He loves me and gives comfort to me because God is my Heavenly Father.  God has walked with me even when I was not aware of His presence nor felt it.

On the journey, I am learning to live more in the present and focus on the moments.  It is living one day at a time and not worrying about what could happen.  I am finding joy in the simple things of life and paying more attention to God’s creation around me.  The clouds have been more intense, and I enjoy watching them to see if I can find images in them – shapes like faces, dogs, and other animals.  I try to watch the sunset each evening.  Sometimes the colors are beautiful and sometimes the sun just goes down as an orange, yellow or pink ball.  Through the sunset, God reminds me that some days have an outward joy and other days may seem plain and ordinary, but we can still find moments of peace.  Yes, we all have tasks and routines and pains and grief, but how do we live more and focus on moments or flashes of God’s gifts around us?

“OK.” You say.  “I know that living in moments and seeing good around me is great, but I feel like I am living in a storm of pain and loss right now.  All I see is the storm.”  I get it.  You have prayed for God to calm the storm and bring healing to your heart, but so far it has not happened.  You go through the motions of your faith, but you are tired of living in the storm.

As I read the Scriptures, I found that Jesus literally walked through the storm. He did not immediately calm the storm, but walked in it and walked toward the disciples who were afraid. I believe Jesus walks with us in our own storms of life. We tend to focus only on the loss, grief, storm, and heartache especially in the beginning. As we journey, it is attempting to change our focus to Jesus not the storm. For it was only when the disciples recognized Jesus and focused on him did the storm begin to calm. Your circumstances may not change, but you will begin to change from within. I guarantee it because I have been there.

I have walked the journey of grief as a pastor with many in the church family, and as a hospice chaplain with many patients preparing to let go.  I even experienced the death of my parents and dear family members.  But nothing prepared me for the emotions and chaos of life when my husband, Dave, died.  Everything changed and my life and hope for the future was shattered.  But what I found in the depth of grief and pain and loss was a deeper and closer relationship with Jesus.  Out of the storm, Jesus took my hand.

The flood of sorrow cleanses the soul of what is trivial and changes the priorities of our lives.  God has put to use what He has put me through.  Because of my own loss, God has placed on my path others who are beginning the grief journey.  God has used my sorrow and loss to bring hope and comfort to others.  I have found purpose in the pain and the storm.  I am living more each day and becoming more like Jesus in the process or at least that is my desire.

Inescapable Grief

“Where can I go to get away from your Spirit? Where can I run from you?”  Psalm 139:7

Last week in my blog, I shared many unspoken stages of grief and asked you to share some of your own stages.  Sarah gave me this stage – “Inescapable Grief.”  Sarah said – “I had a stage where I just felt grief was inescapable – everywhere I turned.  There was no break from it during the early stages.  It did lessen and there were increasing breaks from it over time.  I think sitting with the loss, letting myself cry, talking about it and having a physical place for my grief helped a lot.”

When grief crowds into your life unexpectedly, it seems like it permeates every corner of your life.  You may have predicted it or even began preparing for the death and loss, but nobody prepares for the grief.  It is everywhere.  In all your thoughts, actions and surrounds you in your environment.  It feels like it is choking the little life you still have out of you.  Grief consumes, control and changes every aspect of life.  You attempt to concentrate on paperwork, a task, a work project, and grief takes charge.  It clouds your vision and numbs your thoughts.  You try to distract yourself, but it seeps into your distraction.  You change your environment and grief packs its bag and goes with you.  Grief is inescapable.

We attempt to escape from grief.  We change locations, clothes, habits, and relationships, but grief weaves its way into every aspect of life.  It may not be evident to others around us because we tend to hide it well.  We feel everyone can see the grief, but then we realize others have escaped from the choke hold of grief.  They even seem to be living life without being consumed with the pain and loss.  It hurts that others are not hurting and feeling our pain but it seems impossible to even share with them the hurt we feel from them because of the intensity of our grief.

The intensity of grief changes, but I believe grief lives within us in some form for the rest of our lives.  The longing for the relationship lost never leaves us.  The love we have never leaves us.  So, as I have journeyed down this path of grief, I have turned this negative intense grief that is everywhere into an inescapable love for the one who has been my person.  When I close my eyes, he is there.  When I think of other loved ones who are now in heaven, I close my eyes and remember.  I can see them and recall an event in time when the person was beside me and we shared life together.

Kenny Chesney has a song “When I Close My Eyes” –

              “When I close my eyes, you’re all I see

              In the dark of night, you’re in my dreams.

              Throughout the day. you’re easy to find

              You’re always there, when I close my eyes.”

I have begun to close my eyes, whenever I think of someone I love.  I feel their presence and the closeness of their touch.  In those moments, they are with me, and I feel a sense of quiet peace come over me.  I grieve because they are not with me, but I give thanks for their lives and when I close my eyes, they are easy to find.  They are in my heart forever.  The presence of those I love never escapes from my heart.

In my grief, I have come to accept that God has been with me through it all.  Even when I felt alone, God’s Spirit was always with me.  I did not need to feel God, but trust.  We cannot escape God’s love even when our own pain and loss cloud our view and acceptance.  God is always with us on this journey of life.  I have changed my focus.  I focus on God’s inescapable love and presence.  I will never be outside of His love and care and neither will you.

The Unspoken Stages of Grief

“We know that in everything God works for the good of those who love him. They are the people he called, because that was his plan.”   Romans 8:28

As I was talking with a friend whose husband had died last year, she told me she felt jealous every time she saw an older couple together. She is no longer part of a couple, and she will not have the opportunity to grow old together with her husband. She felt guilty of her feelings and said that it was not a stage of grief. I told her that yes, it was a stage of grief. I began to think of all the unspoken and hard to admit stages of grief.

We all have read Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. As we know, grief is not linear, and we go through numerous feelings throughout our grief.  Many of these feelings and stages we are afraid to name and admit to anyone even ourselves.  Let me name some of these unspoken and rarely named stages of grief and get them out in the open to ponder and admit.

“I don’t care to live” stage is not a suicidal stage but a feeling that it seems impossible to live without our loved one. It usually includes the stage of “Not getting out of bed” or going back to bed throughout the day.  It seems too hard to face the emptiness of life and to even see a possibility of moving forward in life without our loved one.  If you are in these feelings and stage, give yourself permission to be here without guilt.  It is a journey. 

“I just want to run away” stage happens throughout grief when everyday life seems overwhelming, and the day-to-day tasks seem to be a huge wall that we must climb.  We want to run away from reality and not face the fact that our loved one is not physically present.  We want to run away from the pain and darkness of grief.  We want to run away from family and friends and be alone, but we also want to run away from the loneliness.  We may feel this way even without grief.  It is part of the journey of life.

“I don’t want to eat” or “I eat everything that’s not healthy” stage.  We may eat very little at phases of grief.  We may eat the same thing every day for months.  I did this.  It was easier not to put thought into food, so I ate the same thing.  It made going to the grocery store quicker and I did not have to prepare food.  We usually choose comfort type foods that may not be as healthy knowing we need to eat something.  It is trying to see food as nutrition not a part of grief or emotions as we progress through this stage.

The “Fall apart” stage happens when we least expect it.  It is connected to the “I cannot stop crying stage.”  The frequency of these feelings may slow down with time, but the feelings can still be intense. This is because the love never ends, and we encounter life events our loved one will never experience.

While anger is one of the five stages of grief, we rarely admit we feel like slapping someone and telling them off.  Yes, this is a stage of grief.  I call it “the punching bag” stage because hitting someone for what they said out of a desire to help is not healthy.  We want to punch something.  So having a punching bag or pillow is a better alternative.  We need to release these feelings in a healthier way.

The “control” stage happens throughout our lives not just in grief.  When we cannot control what happens in life like the death of our loved one, we try to control the environment around us.  We feel that if we can control things, we will feel better and the pain and hurt will not be as intense.  Not a true statement.  We fool ourselves that we can have control over another person or our situation.  It is releasing control to God.  Very hard to do, I know.  Which can move us into the stage of “Let it go.”  It is releasing control and releasing our emotions.  It is not letting others control us, too.

As we walk the journey, we enter the stages of “It is what it is” and “Live in the Moments.”  These are stages of reality.  We have the inability to change what has happened – it is what it is, so I need to live in this moment.  It is challenging ourselves to be present and live in what we have and who we are.

You know I could go on and on with stages of grief. I hope you will share with me some stages you have recognized on your grief journey. God is working good in all of your lives. It is not what you would choose. But I believe God brings good out of all situations. God is using what you have been going through to bring you into His saving grace. To bring healing into your heart and hope into your life. It is bringing purpose and meaning out of the circumstances of your life. It is being able to be of help and support to others beginning the journey.

So, tell me, what stages have you experienced?

Turn Off The Dark

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined.”  Isaiah 9:2

As a child, I remember having to do chores on the farm sometimes when it was dark outside.  I did not like going into the barn in the dark.  It was not so much that I was afraid of the dark, but I was afraid of what creatures lurked in the dark.  I remember turning on the lights in the sheep barn and having rats run in front of my feet.  I always screamed at that sight.  I remember having an outside light shining in the barnyard as security, and it always gave light to my bedroom.  I had a huge nightlight illuminating the darkness.

I have been reading the book, Through the Eyes of a Lion by Levi Lusko.  It is his journey through the impossible pain of the death of his five-year-old daughter, Lenya and finding incredible power and hope in Jesus.  One of the chapters in his book is entitled, “Turn Off The Dark.”  I have been pondering these words and the powerful description they give to grief.  Darkness consumes us and envelopes us into this deep cavern of grief and despair.  We feel the darkness of loneliness, fear, despair, and the loss of hope and meaning.

No matter how much light we put on the hole in our heart, the hole always remains.  Nothing seems to change the dark hole of grief.  Early in our grief, darkness consumes almost every moment.  We feel the gut punch of the grief in the darkness.  It is difficult to take a breath in between the intensity of the pain.  We barely survive each moment and even wonder how we could ever live.  All we see is darkness around us.  Our foundation of life and faith tells us there is light, but we cannot see it and feel nothing in this dark pit of grief.  We wonder what lurks in the dark.

As we crawl down the path our greatest desire is to turn off the dark.  We are not ready to see the light and live in the light of each day.  We just want the darkness not to be so intense.  We are just trying to survive.  We attempt to take some breaths without feeling the depth of the pain and hurt.  The darkness almost becomes comfortable.  It is what we know, and we feel if we come out of the darkness, we will lose our connection with death and our loved one.  Our focus remains on how and why our loved one died.  The darkness represents death, and that is where our mind and thoughts stay.  We stay in the dying.

Then, we begin to walk the path of grief and as we move farther down the path, we notice a glimpse of light that flickers in the distance.  The dark has less control.  We are grieving but also living.  We function in daily life and have moments where we experience good and have some peace.  Life is different, and we begin to focus on how our loved one lived life not just how they died.  They lived and brought light and life into our lives and the world.  Oh, we have moments that darkness still consumes, but they are moments.  We are learning to live more focused on the increasing light not the consuming darkness. 

Who turns off the dark? I believe it is Jesus. He is the light of the world. (John 8:12) Through Jesus’ death on the cross, he conquered death. Death and darkness are no longer in control. Jesus brings light into the dark. He turns off the dark with his light. In our grief, we may know that Jesus is with us, but the dark consumes us for a time. It is having a hope of a hope that someday we see Jesus’ light and believe our loved one is in Heaven surrounded by the light and love of Jesus. Jesus shines His light of love and hope into our darkness of grief. He turns off the dark and guides us to focus on the love that never dies.

Here on earth, there will always be darkness, but Heaven is filled with light – the light of Jesus.  In our grief, we work toward turning off the dark and allowing the light of Jesus to shine in the darkness of our pain and hurt.  It is a process. We may turn off the dark and live in the numbness of existence for awhile before light begins to permeate the dark.  Turn off the dark and allow the light to begin to come into your world of grief.  Death and darkness is not in control.  Heaven is full of light where Jesus and our loved ones dwell.  They are surrounded with light and love.  Our loved ones’ light still shines in our hearts.  Take steps toward the light.  The light of love that is in our hearts through our loved one and through Jesus.  Turn off the dark and focus on the glimmers of light that are breaking through.

Turn off the dark!

What Do You Want?

“But no one asked, “What do you want?” or Why are you speaking to her?” John 4:27

I recently saw a boat with the name “WANTneed.”  What do you want?  A want is a desire, and it is different than a need. We are seeking people trying to figure out who we are and what is our purpose in life.  We desire to be loved and to be accepted.  The woman at the well in the fourth chapter of the Gospel of John had a want and desire.  I have always connected to her story as a woman.  She was rejected by others and felt totally alone.  Why else would she come in the middle of the day to the well when nobody else was there? She was seeking more in her life but did not know how to find it.  She tried relationships and they did not work.  She tried religion but did not understand.  She was seeking a purpose to life but being a woman in the first century, she had no worth or purpose to society.  She just existed and daily survived until she encountered Jesus.

Jesus knew all about her and still loved her.  He gave her life purpose and filled her with the living water of life.  Jesus did not change the circumstances of her life.  He gave her purpose and meaning in her current life.  Jesus did not change her relationships with others but revealed to her who he was – the Messiah, the Christ, the Savior of the World.  But most importantly, her Savior and the person who loved her.  The woman had been attempting to do it all on her own and kept messing up her life.  Jesus comes into her world and changes her view of herself and her world.

What do you want in your grief?  We all desire to wake up from this nightmare and have our loved one with us.  This is not physically possible.  So, what do you desire on this grief journey?  You may be experiencing life like the woman at the well – just existing and barely surviving each moment.  You do not see purpose or meaning in your life right now.  Give yourself permission to be where you are right now.  It is OK.  We have all felt this way in our grief for moments and periods of time.  This is a natural part of grief.

Some of you are living in the reality of grief.  What do you want?  This is a difficult question to answer because nothing in life is clear and decisions are impossible to make.  You know life goes on, but it is not the life you chose.  How do I live in this new and different life?  You want to find purpose and meaning in this chapter of life.  This is difficult because the one you want to share life with and who gave meaning to your life is no longer with you.  What are you seeking now?

In grief, our view of possessions and what has value has changed.  The things society regards as valuable seem to pale in comparison to the love we have lost.  We all want to be loved but love now comes in a different form.  Love comes through memories.  Love comes through shared time.  Love comes in unexpected relationships.  Love comes from the One who is Love.  God is love, and in our grief we turn to the one who loves us and comforts us.  We recognize God has never left us even when we have been angry and blamed him for the death.  Jesus told the woman at the well, “I am he.”  I am the Messiah.  I am the one you have been seeking.  I am the one you didn’t know you were really looking for as you went from relationship to relationship.  Jesus speaks to us too – “I am he.”  I am the one who comforts you.  I am the one who understands your grief.  I am the one who will continue to walk with you in this journey of life.  I am with you. 

That is really what we want.  We do not want to be alone.  We want to feel the presence of our loved one.  We want to feel the love.  Jesus is love and Jesus is with us.  Yes, life is different than we expected and wanted.  But this is the life we have. We thirst for something to quench the parchedness of grief.  Grief leaves us empty.  We may feel almost dead inside.  But Jesus comes to quench our thirst and basically give us life again.  He gives us living water.  That means, he sits with us until we are able to walk with him.  He nourishes us on his word and presence.  He gives us hope when life seems hopeless.  It is trusting when we cannot see and believing even when we feel like there is no hope. 

What do you want?

Ponderings On The Water

“Then they saw Jesus walking on the water and coming near the boat and they were terrified.” Mark 6:19

As I took a cruise across the Peace River, God spoke to me through the water. On my way to the boat, I heard on the radio the song, “Footprints on the water.” I smiled as I thought about where I was going. Would I see Jesus’ footprints on the water today? Well, God shows up everywhere and today was no exception.

First, the sun came out for the first time this week, and it was a beautiful trip across the water. God spoke in the beauty. As I watched the rough waters and some white caps, I thought about how life has its rough times even when we are moving forward. As we cruised, dolphins joined us from time to time swimming beside the boat and jumping through the waves. They just glided gently through the water and seemed to love showing off and jumping out of the water.  I thought of how even in the rough times of life, God brings moments of joy and laughter even in our grief and sadness. It is good to smile in our tears and recognize there is good even in the tough moments of life. It is not all bad. It is not all good either, but God is always good and always present even when we doubt.

We had taken the cruise to an island that we had never explored. We were given a map and told when to return to the marina for the trip back across the water. Not knowing what the adventure would bring, we moved forward. Made some choices that could have gone better but we survived and learned our way. This reminded me of the Journey of grief.  We start where we have never been and try to figure out the next steps. We take some choices that as we look back now could have been better, but we learned and grew. We encountered some helpful people along the way and some who were just present. On the island I encountered some friendly and helpful people and others who were lost or who just ignored me. That is life.

On our way home, I noticed that the captain kept his eye on two fixed objects on the horizon and steered the boat toward the objects. While he used all the instruments on the boat, those objects were key to keeping him focused and going straight.  The captain could have steered all over the water, but he had to follow his depth finder to keep him from sand bars and shallow water. The captain kept his eyes on the horizon and the goal.

In our grief, we feel we go all over the place and run aground on sand bars and have no focus or direction. When we fix our eyes on Jesus, the water may still be rough but we have someone with us in the waves of grief. Jesus will take our hand when we cry out to Him. In my grief, the water has been rough, but Jesus has been present. Jesus has left footprints on the Water to guide my path on the rough waters.

As we ponder where we are in life today, look around and see how far you have come and follow the footprints that will continue to guide your way.  Pondering is a good way of looking at life.

On The Way

“But on the way he (Jesus) had to go through the country of Samaria.”   John 4:4

As I listened to the pastor preach on the woman at the well scripture in the Gospel of John, the words “But on the way” jumped off the page.  Jesus was on his way to a destination.  He had a purpose in his life, but to arrive to this place, Jesus had to go through the country of Samaria.  In the city of Sychar, his purpose that day was to talk with the woman at the well and reveal to her who he was.  Samaria was a place Jews avoided, but Jesus intentionally chose to walk through it. 

We each have a purpose and a final destination in life.  Our destination is eternal life with Jesus in Heaven, but the paths on earth have different terrain and obstacles.  We are on the way and must go through places we would have rather avoided.  Many situations and events happen we would not intentionally choose, but we encounter them on the way.

In my grief journey, I have taken so many different paths.  Many that others would not have chosen.  I did not choose the grief, but I have intentionally chosen ways to deal with it.  I have moved five times and look forward to the next move.  I am not only on a journey of grief but a journey of living locations.  Nothing feels completely right and home, so I have decided to live in the adventure of different locations.

On the way, I have added new relationships and let go of others.  The experiences and love I have shared will always be a part of who I am, but the people may not be physically present in my daily life.  My heart remains full of memories and love from those I have loved.  My view of marriage is different now.  It is a companionship and friendship that has helped the loneliness and given me a travel buddy.

On the way, I begun to define and understand grief not as something you get over or something you stuff down inside of you, but something that becomes a part of you.  You learn to live in grief and accept that you will always have moments of sadness, but also moments of thankfulness that your life and the life of your loved one connected and you walked the path of life together for a time.  On the way, I have learned that love never ends, and love remains in my heart forever.

On the way, I like the woman at the well, have walked and talked with Jesus. I have shared the deepest part of my hurt and pain with Jesus. Jesus has sat with me and given me the refreshing living water of life. Only Jesus knows my heart and pain. While Jesus has walked with me all my life, the grief journey has brought me to a deeper level of closeness and a willingness to admit I need someone to carry the load. I have had to admit to myself, I cannot push through it or handle the intensity alone. No person can fill the hole, only Jesus understands.

On the way, I have made some decisions that were not healthy or good, but I have learned from them, and they have been a source of help to others.  I have been able to guide others to not go down that path.  On the way, God has placed others who are grieving and because of my journey, I have been a support and guide.  I do not have the answers or know the right path for others.  All I can do and all that I am doing is sharing my journey and what I have learned in my grief hoping that it will be of support to others.  My life journey through grief was not what I had planned, but God put on my path the experiences that have led to who I am and given me my purpose.  We are all on the way.

The Next Right Thing

“Think about the things that are good and worthy of praise.  Think about the things that are true and honorable and right and pure and beautiful and respected.”  Philippians 4:8

In the Movie, “Frozen II,” Anna sings the song – “The Next Right Thing.”  Here are part of the lyrics -

“I’ve seen dark before but not like this.

This is cold, this is empty, this is numb.

The life I knew is over, the lights are out

Hello darkness, I’m ready to succumb

I follow you around…

This grief has a gravity, it pulls me down

But a tiny voice whispers in my mind

You are lost, hope is gone

But you must go on and do the next right thing.

I can’t find my direction, I’m all alone.

The only star that guided me was you. And true

How to rise from the floor

When it’s not you I’m rising for

Just do the next right thing.”

As I listened to this song, it describes grief in such a profound way.  Grief is a darkness that envelopes us and pulls us down.  In the beginning of our grief, we feel lost without hope.  We have no direction because our loved one guided our path.  Our purpose in life has changed and it seems impossible to go on without our loved one.  But as we continue down this path of grief, the reality of life is revealed.  This is now our life.  We must go on, but how?  This song states, “Just do the next right thing.”

How do we know what the next right thing is?  I have come to accept that the next right thing is doing just the next thing.  It is completing something.  In our grief, it is difficult to think with a cloudy mind and to make decisions.  I have learned over time, to slow down and complete one task at a time.  Our minds may have thoughts circling all around and so much is undone.  I just complete whatever is in my mind first or whatever I see first.  It helps give me confidence and I can complete something else.

In dealing with anxiety, this concept is helpful.  Anxiety focuses on the future and all that needs to be completed.  If we slow ourselves down and just do the next thing, we can live and be in the moment instead of so far into tomorrow.  When thoughts begin racing of all that should be done and we have created a “to do” list which seems overwhelming, we need to slow ourselves down.  Take deep breaths and pray, “God, hold my hand.”  Breathe in God’s Spirit and out our anxiety.  One moment at a time.  Finish one thing and move to the next right thing.  Stay in the present and do not rush ahead until one task is behind you.

It is keeping our thoughts focused on what is good and right and true as Philippians 4:8 states.  What is in your thoughts?  Our thoughts go all over the place and usually build up inside our head and then spin around and around.  Even in writing this blog, I had so many things circling in my head.  I had to stop, pray, and keep reminding myself to finish one thing before doing the next right thing.  It is becoming more God focused than self-focused.  In my grief journey, I am learning to live in each day, each moment and not worry about what happens next.  It is doing the next right thing and living in the next right moment.

Slowing Down

“If we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another.” I John 1:7

For the past fifteen years, I have run almost every morning.  It is my prayer time and quiet time with God.  This year, I have run every morning four miles no matter the weather.  My companion dog, Annie, has run with me for almost nine years.  Over the past month, she has waited for me to go around the field instead of running each mile.  Two days ago, she went two laps and ran back to the house.  She was done.  Yesterday, I ran one lap around the field, and she just waited for me.  Today she did not run at all.  Today was a sad day for me.  My companion runner of nine years no longer can run.  Now, we will slow down and walk together.  Do I still run?  I plan to run, but how will it be to run alone?

This reminded me of our grief journey.  We run together with our loved one the path of life.  We weather different storms and keep moving together no matter what life gives to us.  It is a daily life, and we are thankful for companionship.  And then a day comes when our loved one can no longer run with us.  Do we keep running?  Do we change paths?  Do we slow down?

On our grief path, we may stay active and keep busy and not want to slow down.  Sometimes we want to run away from dealing with the grief, or we are just not ready to deal with the reality of death.  We need to stay busy and active out of fear if we stop, we may slide down into a despair and not be able to dig ourselves out.  We may also stay busy in our work environment because it is the only place our loved one was not involved.  Work becomes a place that is “normal” when everything else is different.  Or we may stay busy because that is just how we process life.  Activity keeps us moving and keeps our mind focused on other things.  We may need the activity to give our feelings and emotions time to process.

We live in a world that values productivity and staying busy.  We may feel if we slow down and rest, that it is wrong.  We may feel guilt in taking time to rest and heal our souls.  The world is going by us and we may feel we have to get back into the race.  But is that really what we want or need to do?  During COVID shut down the pace of life also slowed down.  As life begins to gear up again, we wonder if we want to jump back into our old pace of life.  We have had time to reflect on what is important during this time.  In grief, our priorities change as well as our focus of life.  The activities that used to bring us pleasure and joy are no longer fulfilling.

Slowing down may feel like giving up, but it is just contrary to the view of society.  God calls us to “be still” (Psalm 46:10) and to listen to His quiet whisper (I Kings 19:12).  We cannot hear God in the fast paced, busy world.  It is being willing to be quiet and still and face the feelings and emotions of our life, and allow God to be present in the pain, heartache, and loneliness.  God walked with Adam and Eve in the garden, and God desires to walk with us.  Sometimes we run ahead believing we can handle it or if we keep busy, we can run away from the feelings.  Eventually grief catches up with us.

I find myself slowing down in my ministry and work and spending more time in the quiet moments of life.  I sit and watch the sunset most evenings.  I sit in the presence of God and just be quiet more instead of filling the time with words.  Now, I am reflecting about my running.  I have noticed my hip and knee hurts more.  Maybe it is time to consider a different form of exercise and prayer time.  In our grief, we need to slow down and re-assess what we used to do and see if it is what we want to continue to do in this different life.  Slowing down and being still is the only way to go in a different direction and to reflect on what is around us.

The Box of Grief

“You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.”    John 16:20

 Each person shared their story, not just in words but in the emotions on their face.  Each person had experienced loss.  They knew that the others in the room accepted them because they had experienced the loss of a child.  The women around the table knew that the one next to them understood something about their pain and loss.  Each was grieving.  There is something comforting to be with others who have experienced similar loss and pain.  They know.

While grief and loss are different for each person, we each have our story.  Some want to tell the story over and over, while others keep the story close to the heart and do not reveal the details.  The journey is one’s own and by sharing it and letting others into the story, it feels like one loses the intimacy of the relationship.  Other people share the story of their loved one so that others know the specialness of the person and the legacy continues in someone else’s life.  In grief, both ways are healthy, it just depends on the individual.  If the story is spoken or kept within the heart, the emotion of loss still connects people.

When you know the person next to you has experienced a similar loss, the communication deepens and emotionally we experience an acceptance.  They get it.  They know the emotions you are feeling.  You need not apologize for tears, for the hurt and pain.  You are allowed to feel and share the rawness of your feelings.  But what happens when you are in a situation when the emotions are inappropriate for you to express them like in a work environment or celebration setting?  How do you deal with those intense grief feelings? 

Some people in grief, just choose not to be social in their grief for fear of becoming emotional and not being able to control the pain and heartache of the grief.  Isolation is natural in grief.  We fear being told it is time to move on and that it is time to stop grieving and being so emotional.  We never know what will trigger the intensity of the grief.  Stuffing it down inside just leads to depression and it comes out in physical issues.

I am a visual person and have had to find a way to deal with grief when the situation prevents me from expressing it.  I have created a “grief box” in my head.  When the grief becomes intense and I have no place to escape or no time to deal with it, I take out this imaginary grief box and put the pain and hurt and emotions in it, and I put the box in my pocket.  I tell myself that I cannot face this right now, but later when I am alone I will take it out of the box and allow my emotions to be expressed through tears, sadness, anger, hurt and all the other emotions attached to this intense grief. 

After I have dealt with that intense moment, I put the grief box back into my pocket.  I know that grief will always go with me.  Just like my loved one is always in my heart, my grief is always a part of me.   I do not want to stuff it inside and not face it.  I carry it with me.  Even in times when I want to enjoy moments with family and friends, I put the grief in the box and enjoy moments of fellowship with family and friends.  Oh, the grief is there, but it is tucked in my pocket.  It is not the focus for these moments. 

Jesus knew his disciples would grieve when he died.  Jesus knows we will grieve, but grief is not all there is to us.  It is always a part of us, but we can still have moments of joy and moments of celebrations even in our grief.  It is knowing both grief and joy can reside in the same time. 

Memories, Sadness and Gratefulness

“Thank the Lord because he is good. His love continues forever.” Psalm 107:1

As I looked at the pictures of my mom and my husband Dave, memories flooded my mind.  My heart was full of the love and the memories of times shared together.  I just sat and reminisced in my mind.  I remembered the birthday party for my mom and the joy of sharing in the day.  I remembered the trip with Dave and the joy of just being together on the adventure.  They were beautiful moments of memories.  The photos are physical reminders of their presence in my life.  But then the sadness broke my heart.  Neither one is physically present.  The hole in my heart produced the tears and sadness.

I talked with a daughter who had lost her dad.  The memories relived through the boxes and boxes of photos brought moments of joy.  She remembered how her dad was always with her for love and support.  Her life revolved around knowing her dad was always her rock.  But then the sadness overwhelmed her knowing he was no longer here on earth. The grief was intense.

We have all been there in our grief.  Some of you have not been able to even look at pictures of your loved one because the reality that they are no longer present is too painful to face.  To see their photos creates the intense pain that they are not with you.  It becomes too real, and we are not ready to face the reality that our loved one’s life has ended here on earth.  They will not be present in all of our tomorrows.

We remember.  How can we not remember?  We loved them.  They loved us.  We were connected heart to heart.  We cannot imagine life without them.  Memories flood our minds continually but are interwoven in deep sadness and hurt.  We are so afraid if we stop being sad and grieve, we will lose our connection.  We stay focused on how our loved one died and the death.  We may relive the death over and over in our minds and feel the deep pain and sadness of those moments.  Our sadness is about their death.

What connects us to our loved one is not death but life.  It is how they lived and how we lived life with them that gives their life meaning and purpose.  We have loved them because they have been a vital part of our life.  Our loved one has made a difference in who we are, and our life experiences involved them and their influence. 

We never forget and will always have a sadness that comes with the memories, but when we focus on living not dying, we become grateful and thankful our loved one was in our lives.  They live on in us and all we learned from them continues which is their legacy of love.  I have become so grateful for my parents and grandma who instilled in me my faith, my love for nature, my work ethic, my love for family, my connection to the church and the list goes on and on.  It is because they lived, that I have a foundation of faith and life.  The foundation is because of life, not death.  I am thankful for my husband, Dave, and how we walked the path of life together.  I am thankful for the confidence he instilled in me and how God blessed us together and though our lives intertwined we each grew and built upon our foundation of faith and life.

When I focus on life, I am grateful, when I focus on death, I am sad.  When I allow myself to live in the memories and feel the joy and life that the memories bring, I am sad for moments that I will not be able to add to the memories, but I give thanks that I have them.  I would rather have the moments of sadness than to have never had my loved one in my life.  I am grateful for whatever time I had.  It would never have been enough no matter the years.  I am thankful for the hope of Heaven and that I will be reunited with all those I have loved in the Lord.

So I live in memories, sadness and thankfulness!

The Labor of The Hole

“Blessed are the dead who from now on die in the Lord. Yes…they will rest from their labors for their deeds follow them.” Revelation 14:13

“The death of one that belongs to the Lord is precious in his sight.” Psalm 116:15

Several months ago, I asked my siblings to share some of my parents’ favorite sayings.  My dad always said, “Ditto cabbage head” and “Any dummy can do it.”  My mom always quoted many of the old sayings about nature like “three snows after the forsythia blooms.”  My oldest brother, Edwin, after some reflection said, “I don’t remember any sayings of mom, but she was a prayer warrior.”  My mom prayed.  She prayed for family.  She prayed for situations.  She prayed for the needs around her.  She prayed. 

As I reflect on Mother’s Day, it is one of my sad days because my Mom is not physically with me but is in Heaven.  I miss talking with her daily.  I miss her wisdom.  I miss just sitting with her.  I miss her recipes and her love for chocolate and baking.  I miss her smile.  So much I miss about my mom, but what I miss the most is her prayers.  I knew that she was praying for me daily.  If I talked with her about a situation or a need, the first thing she did when the conversation was over was to pray about it.  My mom prayed without ceasing and lived in constant communication with God.  Knowing I was being prayed for by my mom, gave me a sense of peace and security.

Recently a friend told me one of the holes in her life since her husband died was the constant communication and texting throughout the day they shared.  She missed having someone to text that cared about the little things that happened and to receive a text from the one person who could make her smile when life was difficult.  The need for communication and connection is a hole that forms in our lives when our main person dies.  We grieve the security and support.  We grieve not having someone who cares about the little details of our lives.  We miss the one person with whom we want to share the details and dailyness of life.

Mother’s Day is a reminder of my mom and those who have taken on the role of “mom” in my life at various churches I have served.  Women who have poured their love and care into me and treated me as family.  They have been a gift from God in supporting me on the journey and encouraging me.  But nobody can fill the hole of my mom’s prayers.  Her prayers were a labor of love.  It was my mom’s calling in life to pray for her children, grandchildren, and extended family.  I know she prayed in her garden, on her swing, in her chair and while working in her kitchen.  Every place was a holy haven of prayer.

The scripture in Revelation 14:13, states that those who die in the Lord will rest from their labors, but their deeds follow them.  My mom is in Heaven and rests with her Lord and Savior, Jesus, and her deeds of prayer have followed her to Heaven.  Is she still praying for me and her family?  I believe she is.  But the hole in my heart on earth is still here because she is not physically present with me.  The hole though, is paved with my mom’s prayers.  Her prayers remain.  Her deeds of prayers are part of the foundation of my life.  As I feel the absence of her love and support, I also feel her prayers continue to surround me.  The hole that my mom leaves in my heart is held together with her prayers.

My mom also inspires me to keep prayer at the center of my life.  I talk with God on my morning run, throughout moments in the day and have become aware of God’s constant presence with me on this journey of life.  The deeds of my mom have left a legacy of love in the hearts of her children and family.  I continue to pray for my family just as my mom did.  Her labor of love is her legacy. 

In our grief, acknowledge the holes in our hearts created by our loved ones.  But also recognize the holes are lined with love and prayer.

Perspective in The Different

“People can make all kinds of plans, but only the Lord’s plan will happen.”  Proverbs 19:21

I have been a list maker all my life.  I make a “Things to Do” list with big projects and then a list for the daily tasks.  I enjoy crossing things off the list, but it seems I add more as soon as I cross something off.  I have completed lots of big and small projects with my list.  I am one that usually does not ask for help with projects on my list.  I feel a sense of accomplishment in completing the list, but I also wonder if I did enough for the day to regard the day as a successful day.  We live in a society that is performance based – the more we accomplish, the better the person we think we are and the more loved and accepted we will be in relationships and even with God.  At least that is what we are led to believe.

In grief, the list can be a tool to help us just function.  It can be as simple as – get out of bed, brush our teeth, take a shower, get dressed. And even those basics seem too difficult to accomplish at certain stages of our grief.  We do not like asking for help in our grief.  Sometimes we just push ourselves trying to make life feel “normal” for others in the family.  We are doing the work of two people sometimes and wonder why we are exhausted and not achieving completion at the end of the day.

This different life changes our perspective on what is important in life.  The daily worries of others seem to be so trivial now that grief has entered our daily life.  Our priorities change and the list of things to do have lost their importance. At first, I just completed the essentials and my counseling schedule.  Just to survive a day without my husband was a huge accomplishment.  Then came projects and productivity.  I wanted to sort and organize all my stuff and create scrapbooks.  It was good for awhile but it did not fill the emptiness.

I have traveled this grief journey trying out many paths to find a way to live in this different life. I have moved from house to condo to house to rental to someone else’s house. I have moved to different areas of the state. I have stayed busy with work and ministry focusing on the needs of others. I have tried new relationships. I have changed my diet. I have run daily. I have watched movies. I have tried different friendships. I have changed relationships. I have….. Yes, I have had an adventure in this grief journey looking for something or someone to fill the emptiness of my life.

I realize I have had these different experiences on this grief journey so that I can relate to others on the journey.  I have tried things others only think about and now I can share with them my experience and the good and not so good that came from it.  I can share what I learned about myself by doing it, and because of what I now know, I would have changed or not done.  It has all had a purpose, and I believe it will help someone else on the journey.

As I reflect on my journey through grief, I have come to understand it is not what I have done on the journey that has given me peace and hope but just being and resting in God’s presence.  I have slowed down and even stopped writing daily lists most of the time.  I have surrendered to God’s will and plan instead of my own.  I ask each day who God wants me to contact.  I am not focused on accomplishing tasks as much but enjoying moments with God.  The emptiness is still present, but it has become a part of me.  It is a place where love still dwells.

My perspective on life has changed.  My priorities have been re-defined.  What I thought was so important, no longer has value or influence.  I worry less and live in the present more.  I hold onto God’s hand and live more in moments.  I am sad and recognize the hole is still in my heart.  Life is different and how I live and experience life will always be different.  It is just a different perspective, but the same God who holds my hand.

Pain to Memories

“Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”  Deuteronomy 31:6 (NIV)

Recently I watched Disney’s remake of “Cinderella.”  In this version, before Cinderella’s mother dies, she talks to her daughter and tells her two things to remember – “Have courage and be kind.”  Cinderella promises her mother she will.  After her mother dies, Cinderella and her father are in a meadow together running and playing together and the words spoken are – “we are turning our pain into memories.”

In our grief, we feel the deep pain of loss.  We cannot imagine going on with life and the hole in our lives is impossible to fill again.  Pain is central in grief.  We feel the emotional pain of losing our main person with whom we shared life, our thoughts, our adventures, and just daily life.  When we awake, for a moment life feels good, but then we remember our loved one is no longer physically present, and we feel the heartache.  As time goes on, the intensity of the pain lessens, and we begin to focus more on the memories and our time together.  Oh, the pain is still there and the hole in our life never heals, but the memories bring a smile and a thankfulness that our loved one lived.  Memories and pain become a part of who we are.

The movie unlocked memories of my own mom.  I miss my mom and long to talk with her, but I am thankful for the memories I pull out of my heart and mind each day.  As I remember, I take a journey down memory lane and walk again with my mom.  I remember what she taught and how she lived her life.  My mom was strong and had courage, and like Cinderella’s mom was kind and instilled kindness in her children.  The legacy of my mom lives on in each of her children.  It gives us hope and courage in the face of the difficulties of life just like it did for Cinderella.

After Cinderella’s dad died, and the evil stepmother and sisters entered her world, she tried to live by her mother’s words – “Have courage and be kind.”  It was difficult to do in the face of evil.  It is difficult to live our faith in the midst of pain and grief.  Oh, we believe in God’s presence and comfort, but the emotional pain clouds our faith.  It is in these moments we go beyond feelings and trust God is with us even when we feel abandoned and alone.  We can cry out in the darkness and God still listens.

Cinderella cried out into the darkness when life turned painful, and she refused to believe in the magic that her mother told her would also be with her.  While we do not believe in magic, we are called to believe God is with us even when we are struggling.  Even when it feels like life is overwhelming and one thing after another falls apart.  Believe.  It is not our strength but God through us.  Courage and kindness come from God.  We need to believe and accept God’s Spirit that dwells within us.

Live in the moments of memories of your loved one.  Allow a memory to seep into your being and penetrate the pain.  Memories are a gift from God.  Yes, we want our loved one to be with us physically, but what we have are the memories of their life, their love, their humor, and how they made a difference in our life.  Live in the memories that they become a foundation for who you are and who you are becoming.  Believe even in the pain and grief that God is with you, holding you close.  The pain is there but so are the memories.  God is with you in the pain, and God helped create the memories.

The Atrophy of Grief

“Lord, have mercy, because I am in misery.  My eyes are weak from so much crying, and my whole being is tired from grief.”   Psalm 31:9

The pastor used the word “atrophy” in his sermon and my mind remembered when I first heard this word.  I was on staff of a church and one of the pastors had been diagnosed with ALS (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis).  In the disease the muscles eventually atrophy, that is, the nerve cells break down which reduces the function of the muscles.  The muscles become weak and begin to waste away.  I watched Judy’s muscles waste away as the disease progressed and eventually took her life.  Atrophy is a wasting away, a gradual decline in effectiveness or vigor, to diminish, or a decline in development.

Grief has an aspect of atrophy.  When we experience loss, it feels like our physical body is breaking down, and we barely function in life.  Nothing feels normal, and we feel ineffective to deal with the day-to-day routine of life.  It feels like we are wasting away without a desire to be active.  We are weak due to the emptiness and loss of the one we love.  Physically we may go through the motions, but emotionally and mentally the atrophy has taken over. 

We may feel “stuck” in our feelings and in the grief and loss.  It may seem this is how life will always be without meaning and purpose because the grief is so overwhelming.  We take on the guilt and responsibility of the loss, or we cannot imagine figuring out how to live with the hole that is permanently in our heart.  Our thoughts seem all jumbled inside our head, and the numbness of our emotions overflow into our physical body.  We feel numb to life, numb to emotions, and numb to any hope of being able to function naturally again in life.

Weak.  We feel weak because of the physical drain upon our body through all the events and the roller coaster of emotions.  We also feel weak that we are not able to pull ourselves together and function.  We think we should be stronger and be able to push through all of it.  We make it out of bed but taking a shower seems like way too much work.  And if we do make it to take a shower and get dressed, we wonder why we bothered because it did not make life any better to face. 

Some of you have some distance from these raw emotions and have begun to strengthen your ability to function and have begun to live in the moments of life.  Some of you are right in these emotions and the atrophy of grief has a grasp upon you.  Give yourself permission not to fight these emotions but to experience them for moments and then distract yourself.  Our bodies can only deal with the intensity of grief in moments.  We become weak from our crying and tired from the heavy load.  Tears cleanse the soul while sleep gives us some moments of relief and healing.

Our soul and body also atrophy when we are not in communion with God.  When we rely only on our human frailty, the grief consumes us.  It is when we cry out to the Lord for mercy like the Psalmist did and allow God to be our strength that God will carry us when we have nothing left within us.  Through my grief, I have learned that I am not strong on my own, and I need to depend on God.  It is not a sign of weakness or weak faith, but a trust that will sustain me as I walk the journey.  I have had to be still and heal and accept that life will never return to normal.  It will be different.  I am different, and I will never be who I was.  That is OK, because I am becoming who I am with God’s strength. 

Emptiness

“Don’t be afraid.  You are looking for Jesus from Nazareth, who has been crucified.  He has risen from the dead; he is not here.  Look, here is the place they laid him.”   Mark 16:6

We celebrated at Easter that the tomb was empty.  Jesus conquered death.  He is risen.  He is risen indeed.  In the celebration, I heard the word “empty.”  The tomb being empty brought fear that someone stole the body but also a hope that what Jesus said about himself was true – that he would rise from the dead in three days.  I heard the word “empty” earlier in the week when my friend said she now answers when asked, “How are you feeling?” with – “I feel empty.”  Her empty is not a celebration.  It is a loneliness. 

We know what empty is in “normal” life.  When we open the refrigerator and it is almost empty, we know a trip to the grocery store is needed soon.  We look at the gas gauge on our vehicle before we head to the store, and the gauge is close to the “E” so we stop at the gas station on our way to the store.  Our stomach begins to growl, and we realize we have not partaken of a meal yet.  We recognize empty in things around us and even in our stomachs.  These “empties” can be filled by preforming the necessary tasks.  But what about the emptiness within us?

We see the empty chair, the empty bed, the empty house and feel the emptiness inside of us.  Grief is in this space, but it does not fill the space.  Nothing fills the space.  No person, no food, no event, nothing new, no possessions, nothing.  Oh, we may try a few different things for awhile that cover up the emotions and feelings.   We may stay busy to avoid feeling the emptiness, but nothing fills the void in your life after a loved one has died.

We experience the emptiness of disappointment.  Life did not turn out the way we had planned.  We had so many hopes and dreams, and they are shattered because of death.  We anticipated growing old together, but death ended that dream.  We feel a part of us has been torn away.  We see others enjoying happiness and laughter together, and we feel a twinge of anger because it is not us.  We are disappointed that nothing fills the void.

We may believe in Heaven and that Jesus’ resurrection gives us the gift of eternal life.  We believe our loved one is in heaven, but there is an emptiness in the unknown.  What is heaven like?  What are they doing?  Do they know what is going on with me and our family?  It is difficult at times to trust in the unknown.  We know are loved one is whole and complete and without pain, but do they know the hole they left in our hearts and lives?  Our faith believes and trusts, but the emptiness within us wants assurance.

The emptiness also comes in not knowing what life will be like now.  We feel empty inside because a part of us is gone.  Our loved one made us complete with purpose and hope.  Our lives are different.  It is overwhelming trying to maneuver the obstacles of life and make decisions alone.  The empty space that once was filled with our loved one will always be empty, but the grief journey calls us to live in the other places of our lives.  Oh, we never stop feeling the hole, but we begin to live with that emptiness as a part of who we are now.  In this different life, we recognize who comes beside us.  The one who emptied the tomb and conquered pain and death, Jesus.

Jesus comes to us in a different way just as he did with his disciples.  He was still Jesus, but now he was resurrected and promised to be with them in Spirit.  There was an emptiness for the disciples that Jesus would not be physically walking with them as he had for the past three years, but he would be with them through his Holy Spirit.  Our loved one stays with us in our hearts and our spirits are forever connected.  The physical emptiness will always be with us, but it is trusting in the loving spirit that will remain in us.  It takes a step and sometimes a leap of faith to accept and believe this different connection.

The Eyes of The Soul

“Then the Lord turned and looked straight at Peter.”   Luke 22:61

“Now, my God, may your eyes be open and your ears attentive to the prayer offered in this place.”  2 Chronicles 6:40

Her eyes opened and were fixed.  They did not move around to see her loved ones but looked beyond all of us.  I knew she was seeing beyond this world, beyond those in the room.  He opened his eyes, and they were clear blue.  Clearer than they had been in months.  He looked up and his eyes twinkled.  He closed them, and then he was gone.  He looked at me and said nothing verbally, but his eyes spoke of deep love as they filled with tears.  The eyes of death.  I have witnessed many eyes of the dying.  They no longer see the physical world but are fixed on the spiritual realm.

Our eyes.  We have different colors and shapes of eyes.  Some wear glasses or sunglasses.  During this pandemic, eyes are about the only part of a person we have seen when wearing a mask.  I have seen fear in people’s eyes, afraid of being too close to another person.  I have seen loneliness just wanting someone to recognize them or connect with them.  Many people hide behind the mask and do not speak to others.  We do not see another person’s smile behind the mask.  What do your eyes reveal about you?

In our grief, we fear looking at others because we believe they will look deep into our soul and see the pain and hurt.  Or worse, they will not see it.  Our eyes are the window to our souls.  We may try to hide the pain and grief, but someone who has felt the pain and hurt will recognize it in our eyes.  I have seen the emptiness and loneliness in the eyes of those who have lost the love of their life.  I see because my eyes have reflected that same pain and hurt.  Oh, we try to hide it from others, and many do not see it because they have never felt the depth of grief.  When I look into the eyes of someone who is grieving, I see into their soul what they try to keep deep inside.  It wells up into our eyes and sometimes comes out as tears.

Through Holy Week, as I read the scriptures on Jesus’ journey to the cross, I began to imagine the eyes of Jesus.  What did he see?  What was in the eyes of Jesus?  Jesus looked at the crowds on Palm Sunday and saw joy and excitement in eyes of the children who waved palm branches and sang.  Jesus saw the innocence in them.  Jesus went into the temple and threw out those selling and exchanging money. There was anger in Jesus’ eyes because of the disrespect for God and the loss of meaning to the Temple.  Jesus looked into the eyes of each disciple as he washed their feet.  He looked with compassion on those he loved and walked this earth with for three years.  He knew they did not understand, but he loved them.  Jesus looked at Judas knowing he would betray him.  Jesus looked at Peter knowing he would deny him.  Jesus looked with love upon his mother and the disciple he loved.  Jesus looked at the thief on the cross and accepted him.  Jesus looked deep within the soul.

Jesus looks deep into our soul.  He understands our pain and grief.  His eyes reflected that same pain and grief.  He looks with compassion on our loneliness, and quietly surrounds us.  He sees our need and quietly sits with us in our hurt and pain.  He stretched out his arms and died for us to conquer death forever and give to us and our loved one eternal life with him.

Look today in the mirror.  Look into your own eyes.  What do you see?  You may see the pain, loneliness, and emptiness of your life.  You may see the spark fading within you.  You may see fear and uncertainty for your next steps.  Believe that God is looking deep within you with His love and compassion.  You are not alone.  Look this week into the eyes of someone you trust and who loves and accepts you with all your feelings and emotions.  Jesus was resurrected and looked with love into the eyes of the disciples who had denied him and ran away in fear.  They received compassion as they looked into Jesus’ eyes.  We do too. 

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and the things of earth will grown strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.”

More Than A Feeling

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”   2 Corinthians 5:7

“I feel sad.”  “I feel angry.”  “I feel numb.”  “I feel lonely.”  “I feel irritable.”  “I feel…”

Feelings.  Sometimes feelings are difficult to name because they are all mixed up together.  Feelings create turmoil within us, and we experience the effects of these feelings in our stomach, heart, and head.  We hear, “You shouldn’t feel that way.”  Nobody can tell us how to feel.  Feelings are just that, feelings that are within us.

I watched feelings pour out of the eyes of my family.  I saw feelings wrap around the hurt as hugs.  I felt the intense sadness as they tucked her into the casket and the lid closed.  I heard the emotion of the songs and my heart remembered bringing tears.  The smell of the flowers brought feelings of beauty but also a sadness because of why they were there.  I tasted the food at the meal and while it was good, it was also a reminder of why we had gathered.

Feelings bring memories and trigger our own feelings of walking the journey.  We may try to suppress these emotions but they well up inside of us and many times begin pouring out of our eyes.  We may try to be “strong” for others or not want to express these feelings with others.  We may hold them inside and finally they come out at inappropriate times or ways.  If we bottle up our grief, it can turn into depression or come out in moments as anger. 

Feelings are emotions, sentiments, sensations, passions, and affections within us.  Feelings describe our senses of touch, smell, taste, hearing, and sight.  We usually associate good feelings as warm and fuzzy sensations within us.  There are days feelings are all over the place.  We feel very emotional, confused, uncertain, and anxious about life.  Feelings themselves are neither good nor bad, it is the expression of the feelings or lack of that can lead to unhealthiness.

Naming our feelings and emotions is the first step in facing them and dealing with them.  For instance – “I feel sad and lonely because my person I talk with and share life with is no longer physically present.”  The hole in our heart seems overwhelming and taking any steps in life seems impossible.  We “feel” like we are falling with nothing or nobody to catch us.  It is admitting to ourselves how we feel.  It not apologizing for feeling, but it is figuring out what we do with those feelings.  Sometimes we need to admit these feelings and emotions will always be a part of who I am and that it is OK to have them.  The feelings do not make you weak or less of a person.  They are just who you are.  It is figuring out how you live in your other relationships with these feelings and how you live in this different life.

In grief, our desire is to “feel” our loved one’s presence.  What does that really mean?  We want to feel them close to us and have the warm sensation of their loving presence.  We may receive this gift of warmth and closeness for a moment, or we may need to just trust in faith that our loved one’s spirit is within our heart.  The love never leaves, but there are moments we want to feel the love and not just trust it is there.  It is the same with our relationship with God.  We trust by faith that God is with us even when we do not feel His presence.  We walk by faith not just by what we feel.  God is present even when we cannot sense His presence.  God will give us a sense of peace in the midst of the grief.   Give yourself permission to feel the emotions of grief.  Also, give yourself permission to not to be overwhelmed by the feelings.  However you feel is how you feel.  It is owning these feelings are now a part of who you are.

It Happened...Again

“Death where is your victory?  Death, where is your pain?  Death’s power to hurt is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But we thank God!  He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”   1 Corinthians 15:56-57

It happened again – death.  It came unexpected.  Unwanted.  But it did not care.  It still came, leaving behind pain, heartache, tears, and emptiness.  The image forever etched in my head, playing over and over again like a horror movie that will not end.  The tears flowed.  The family devastated.  Heaven opened and received one of its own.

I sat with my brother and nieces as my sister-in-law, my brother’s wife and my nieces’ mom and grandma began this unexpected journey of letting go of this world and entering into the next place.  The tears.  The shock.  The pain.  The letting go.  Giving permission to go but wanting to hang on to life.  The conversations.  Time seeming to stand still and feeling so surreal.  Wanting life to slow down but too difficult to stay in this intense emotion.

I began this week officiating at the funeral of a retired trooper’s wife who was a friend.  We celebrated her life and shared memories together.  Her life focused on caring for her husband who is also beginning the journey of letting go of this world.  I ended the week with the death of my sister-in-law.  In between, I counseled those walking the journey of grief and loss.  Death leaves a powerful sting, pain and hurt in our lives.  The death of a person, a relationship, a dream, a hope, a life.  They are all a type of death.

As I walk the journey of death with others, my personal experiences replay in my mind.  It is a picture that will never leave my mind and heart.  Those last moments with our loved one is forever cemented in our mind.  Some of us had the privilege of being with our loved one and witnessing the last breath.  It is a very holy moment when Heaven opens and receives one of its children.  Many times, a person’s eyes open and fix not on things on earth, but on things in Heaven.  They look beyond those around them. I believe they begin to see the spiritual world and see Jesus.  Many people reach and become restless as they let go of this body and release the last of their energy.  They use up themselves.

We come to a place where we do not want our loved one to continue to be in pain and to suffer and we pray for them to let go.  We even give them permission to let go, but in our hearts, we want them to stay.  We do not want them to leave us.  We cannot image life without them.  We pray for God’s will.  We pray for a miracle.  We pray for healing.  Every time God heals.  Some time the healing is physical, and other times the healing is perfect releasing our loved one from this world of pain and suffering. 

Death does not have the final word.  God does.  God has given us victory over death through the death of his Son, Jesus.  Jesus conquered death and paid the debt we owe giving us hope and eternal life through Him.  Yes, we may know and accept Jesus’ victory over death, but death still comes.  It still brings pain, heartache, and a deep loneliness.  Death changes life.  Life is so different when death enters our lives.  But death is not the end.  It is the beginning of eternal life.  We trust our faith and live in this hope.  I believe that is the only way we can even survive when we experience the death of our loved one.  We hold on to the hope of Heaven.  We feel the emptiness of life, but we also have the hope that our loved one is perfect and at peace with Jesus.  We also have the hope that we feel their love and spirit within us forever.

Death.  It happens over and over again.  It will always hurt.  It will always bring tears and heartache.  But it will always bring hope and victory through Jesus.

“O victory in Jesus, my Savior forever!

He sought me and bought me

With his redeeming blood;

He loved me ere I knew him,

And all my love is due him;

He plunged me to victory

Beneath the cleansing flood.”

Living Consistently

“Always be joyful.  Pray continually, and give thanks whatever happens.  This is what God wants for you in Christ Jesus.”    1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Who am I now?  This is the main question as we journey further down the path of grief.  Your life has dramatically changed, and you are different because of this loss.  At times, we get upset with ourselves thinking we should be “better” by now or further down this path and not feel the pain and hurt anymore.  Give yourself some grace.  You have experienced the greatest loss of your life – your companion, your friend, your future, your focus, and who you were with this person.  It takes time to figure out yourself again.  You may have lived for the other person, always putting your loved one first over your own needs.  Now it is just you.

So where do you begin?  I believe you need to find your foundation.  What have you built your life upon?  It is having a secure and sure foundation.  To be secure is to place your trust in what is unchanging.  Your life has completely changed, and you feel so unstable and unsure when it comes to making decisions for your life and future.  When we try to walk this journey of grief and life alone, we fall apart quickly.  On my grief journey, I have come to depend even more on my faith and commitment to God.  I am dependent on God for each moment.  This dependency has led to being in communication with God throughout each day.  It is having a conversation and sharing my need. 

When nothing in life is “normal” ever again, we need to find some consistency in who we are and create a different life.  Consistency is not the same as a routine.  Routine is good and helps us get out of bed and function in daily life.  Consistency is deeper.  It is having a constant in your life.  My constant is Jesus.  Through my grief, I have grown closer to Jesus.  Holding Jesus’ hand when feeling so alone and lost. Talking with God throughout the day because nobody is near and finding that this conversation is healing and more fulfilling.  In our grief, our faith may seem to falter and doubt enters our mind, but it is then we recognize the constant unchanging presence of Jesus. 

As I talked with a group of widows this past week, the consistent comment was that their relationship with God has grown stronger and deeper in their grief.  Nobody could fill the void in their life left by their loved one, but God was consistently present reassuring them of His love, grace, and Holy presence.  When nothing in the world seems to matter anymore, God steps in and reminds us that He is present in this world, with our loved one in Heaven and gives us the hope of the future with Him.  But most of all, God reminds us that in this changing world, He never changes.

God calls us to life.  We are called to choose to live the life we did not choose.  We did not choose the loss of our loved one.  Life happened and now we have this huge hole in our hearts and lives.  We were not consulted about the timing of this tragedy and now this chaotic and mess of a life is what we have.  We have a choice.  We can fight against the wave of grief or we can ride the wave and choose to live in the life we did not choose.  In choosing to live, we begin with the foundation of our faith.  In Thessalonians, Paul reminds us to be joyful which to me is to choose life.  Joy has nothing to do with happiness. Joy is an inner peace in the midst of turmoil, pain, and grief.  It is a choice to live.  Next Paul challenges us to pray continually which is to be aware of God’s presence each moment and pull closer to Jesus on this journey.  And then Paul boldly calls us to give thanks.  We are not thankful for loss, but thankful for the gift of life.  We give thanks that in choosing to live, God is consistent in His love, grace, comfort, and mercy.  Live consistently.