Lord, we cry out to you. Where else would we go with our deep loss? Our hearts are split open and our spirit is crushed.
You have promised to be close to the brokenhearted and to draw near to us if we will draw near to you. So we come with open hands and wounded hearts, looking to you to carry us through our grief and walk us through this season. We come to you, the only One who can heal us and lift our head.
It’s been several weeks of back-to-back big issues. If hard things come in threes, I’ve been over limit.
First, we learned that while my daughter was on a mission trip in Brazil, Hurricane Michael wiped out her belongings in storage. On the heels of that, we had a health scare that sent us scurrying for tests and searching for answers. A different report came in raising concerns for one child at the same time I was walking another through heavy decisions. And that Saturday, as I was prepping to meet some friends, a pipe burst spewing water across the utility room into the kitchen before we could get the water turned off.
I stayed steady through the first couple of issues, handling each one as it came. But when they piled on, I began to buckle under the collective weight.
As a single mom, no one person in my life knew all of it. Some knew parts, but some were too personal to share.
And while I’ve learned these last seven years to take my need to God, the sheer weight taxed every bit of my emotional reserves and maxed out my mental space.
I began to get scatterbrained. It wasn’t so bad when I left a roast and vegetables on the counter overnight.
But two days later, I lost some very important papers. This type-B girl had been so organized! I sorted them, used them for online forms and then – poof. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what I did with them next.
Adriel Booker has a heart for women and babies, and women who know the loss of babies. While juggling her three littles, she writes and ministers to women in loss. October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. What a joy to have Adriel share today about that loss and love.
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“I’ll meet her before you do, you know.”
My grandma was in her late eighties and during one of my visits from overseas I had begun to notice she was slowing down in a way I had not seen before. More than ever she spoke clearly of her desire for heaven and her longing to see my grandpa again one day soon. It was close to a year after my first miscarriage; I had no way of knowing it wouldn’t be my last.
I was tender in my loss, and although my grief had thinned, I was beginning to understand that even though it didn’t feel as heavy as it once did, life would never go back to how it was before.
Grief is like that—it changes a person. It can undo us, but it can also remake us. I hadn’t learned that yet. But I would. Eventually.
Ever have one of those weeks filled so back to back that you lived a week’s worth by Tuesday? That was me last week.
Tuesday evening, trying to eke out a deadline, I fell asleep with my laptop open before ever hitting submit.
Wednesday I was still holding everything together pretty well but the afternoon took a hard left. For the rest of the week, I found myself handling one after another weighty issues.
Sometimes life piles on.
I was okay with the first couple of big things, but by the end of the week I was staggering under the weight of them altogether.
“I want to clock out!” my mind groaned. Weeks like that tempt me to give in and give up.
Get over your grief.
Yesterday, running errands and listening to my beloved Christian radio, I found myself shaking my head and talking back.
This speaker went on:
At some point, you have to put a period at the end of mourning. I know folks whose loved one died five years ago and they act like it was yesterday. Get over it. Ask for God’s help, mourn properly and for a proper time. {audience clapping}*
And my heart breaks for those grieving devastating loss five years later or fifteen years later. I want to look into their eyes and whisper over the hand clapping: God sees your pain. God knows your loss. No one else may understand, but God walks with you in it and has so much for you alongside it.
Those who expect you to get over grief have never suffered life-altering loss.
Their advice comes so well-meaning but is so off.
