"When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?"
Psalm 8
You might be fresh in your grief today. Or maybe you are futher along this road.You might be sitting, stunned and immobile with the reality of death. That is where you are and that is where you must be. Let it be. Give yourself permission to just be. Silence is a good thing. Look at the sky who silently takes you to a place of majesty and mystery beyond yourself. Creation consoles your heart and quietly speaks comfort to your spirit.
In this past summer's issue of Bereaved Parents of the USA (www.bereavedparentsusa.org), the editor shared one model describing this journey of grief:
Year 1 - The year of firsts: birthdays, holidays, anniversaries. It's new and awful, but most agree the dreading of those days are worse than the actual day. Hard to fathom, but true.
Year 2 - Universally agreed, probably the hardest year. We discover that now we know just how empty and sad life has become. Most of the support we had is gone - we feel abandoned and alone.
Year 3 - A year of irrational anger. We find ourselves constantly angry over insignificant issues. We must remind ourselves this part of the journey is complicated and are assured by those who have traveled the road that this year will come to an end.
Year 4 - A breakout year with mixed results. We think we are ready to move forward and to others we seem "normal" but we wrestle with giving up grief (after all, it's been our constant companion). As much as we want to fully participate, something deep is holding us back.
Year 5 - A year of engagement. At last, we are able to "re-enter" life in earnest. We have moved through our grief and recognize we will always wear the scar of loss, but we discover we can experience joy and live again.
Know today that the God of creation reaches down in love and cares for every grieving soul. You are never alone. Scripture tells us that Jesus wept over Lazarus, he wept over Jerusalem, and he wept at the foot of his own cross. He has been there and he knows about our sorrow . Look up today and see the majesty of His love.
14 comments:
Marcia, grief is like the surf. Each new wave is different from the last, and everyone's experience is different from each others'. And we can be taken unaware by the undertow that can't be seen on the surface. I am still amazed when I am caught off guard by the flood of my own grief. But one thing I do know to be true: we have to feel it to heal it. I recently heard the song by Mandisa "You Wouldn't Cry" that has been such a comfort to me as I listen to it over and over again:
All you saw was pain all you saw was rain but you should see me now moments filled with tears lasted all those years disappeared somehow you never said goodbye on your knees you’d cry your still asking why, but
(chorus)
blue has never been bluer true has never been truer honey never tasted so sweet there’s a song in the breeze a million voices in praise a rose has never smelled redder the sun has never been brighter if i could find the right words to say if you could look at my face if you could just see this place you wouldn’t cry for me today.
what you think you see isn’t really me I’m already home you’ve got to lay it down cause Jesus holds me down and i am not alone your faith is wearing thin but I am watching him and he’s holding you to, and
(chorus)
blue has never been bluer true has never been truer honey never tasted so sweet there’s a song in the breeze a million voices in praise a rose has never smelled redder the sun has never been brighter if i could find the right words to say if you could look at my face if you could just see this place you wouldn’t cry for me today.
What may seem like years will just be a moment oh, the day will come when I show you where your going I can’t wait to show you that
blue has never been bluer true has never been truer honey never tasted so sweet there’s a song in the breeze a million voices in praise a rose has never smelled redder the sun has never been brighter if i could find the right words to say if you could look at my face if you could just see this place you wouldn’t cry for me today.
Perhaps it will comfort you and others in their grief journey too.
All my love to you as we journey through grief together my friend!
In the Grip of His Grace,
Michelle Bengtson
Speaker, Author, Doctor
www.texnant.com
Twitter: @DrMBengtson
http://michelle-journeyreflections.blogspot.com/
Although it is beyond my comprehension to know what it feels like to lose a child, I couldn't help noticing that this reminds me of the very difficult times my husband & I "grew through" after his sudden diagnosis of a life threatening disease. We grieved for the lost plans we had, for the drastic changes in each of us as we tried to accept what had happened, & for the roles we had played in our marriage. Thanks, Marcia, for a great blog...
yes, Carol, we grieve through many losses and the steps are very similar. I appreciate your thoughts on the topic and hope we can stay in touch! What a great CCC we had!
Michelle, we experienced that song together as LaTan led us in worship. Wasn't it wonderful? Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to read and reply. Thank you, Dr. Bengtson!!
Marcia,
Thank you for the comfort and support this blog will bring to the hearts of so many! Happy to be following you!
Marcia, I'm not sure I'll ever get over my dad's death, and it's been 18 years. He was way too young to die, especially since he wasn't sick and it all happened in just a moment.
I can still hardly think of him being gone without tearing up. He was such a huge part of my life, my biggest cheerleader, and the most influential person in who I am today. I'm clearly my daddy's daughter.
And even though I do take comfort in the fact that he loved the Lord and I know I'll see him again, in all honesty, I still want him here. Selfish, I know. But true.
Thank you for your love for those who hurt. May God grant you His biggest blessings as you endeavor to bless others.
Thank you , dear Glenda. Trying to be faithful and use what God has allowed in my life to be returned in some small way for His glory. It is what we all are doing as CC sisters. The leaves are just beginning to turn here - I imagine you are seeing some beautiful color now. xoxox
I have heard it said often and believe it to be true that those who grieve the hardest and longest are often those who loved the greatest. I would rather have great love and grief than to never have loved. Love you, friend.
In 1997, we lost our youngest daughter four days before her 17th birthday. She had gone through 3 1/2 years of leukemia treatments, suffered every side effect in the medical books from the chemotherapy and still had to leave us. The one thing I said when she died was, "I just want to be able to help someone else going through the same thing." I grabbed my chest when you referred to losing your support system, I can identify. For the years our daughter was ill we had a new "family" in the Hematology/Oncology world. After she died, I had no one to talk to, go see or to align myself as that connection had been severed. It is a lonely world until we find other parents who have walked the road as well. I can identify with your pain. I promise it will get a little easier. It will NEVER go away, nor do we want it. The "firsts" were rough. The season changes still bothers me, don't know why. I find comfort in walking beside others who are in the same kind of comfort. It is interesting that one of my dearest friends, Vonda Skelton, was the previous writer. She has helped me in so many ways. Welcome to a club we never wanted to be a member. Love and prayers for your my sister.
My dad passed away just a few weeks after 9/11, so that whole year seems surreal. He went to the doctor with heaviness on his chest, and he was in stage 4 lung cancer. Never smoked. He died three weeks after his diagnosis. However, he was a Christian, was ready to go whenever God wanted him, and he lived a life of no regrets. Grief is a weird thing...somehow when my dad died it comforted me to know that God didn't single him out for death. Death comes to every single one of us, some circumstances harder than others. But death, just like life, is part of God's plan. We just have to trust that he knows what he's doing. I'd imagine the grief for a child would be the worst of all, but then look what God has done through you! The weaker we are, the more his strength shines through. So maybe the more difficult the grief, the bigger influence you can be for his kingdom. Bless you and miss you Marcia!
Oh, the seasons bother me too!! I can walk outside right now and here the funny crickets of fall and feel the cool in the air...and it all come back. Real and painful. And then...and here is the beauty of time...I think about the good things, the sweet memories, and I remember all the love. Thank you, new friend.
you are so right...part of God's plan and it is a good plan with a purpose for every one of us. Oh, Celeste, thank you for sharing from your experience. Those who read will relate. I love you, sweet friend. And I also know that you are helping so many in your ministry.
You leave an everlasting testimony of your love for Megan in comforting others who have suffered loss. Thank you for sharing your heart, Marcia . . . where your dear daughter still lives.
Miss you!
Beautifully written Marcia! I pray I will never have to endure what you and your family have endured. While I've lost all of my grandparents, and will one day soon lose my parents, a child must be the most difficult of losses.
Love,
Danie
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