Category: Grief

Spring reminds me of a time of miracles.  They are subtle miracles we may not even notice.  They happen without any interaction from us.  There is no requirement we pay attention.  It just happens and if we choose to tune in, we can be completely amazed.  Most of us simply move on.  But for those of us who are grieving, these undetected miracles are actually signs of great hope.  

I am sure most of us have said how odd this year already has become.  Things were already out of sorts and it feels like they are coming back together very differently than we expected.  I can even sense it in my own home.  My Christmas cactus is currently blooming.  Yes, it is March and this is the first time it has bloomed twice in 4 months.  It is absolutely beautiful, but really quite odd at the same time.  I’ve just decided to appreciate what is before me and move forward.  No need to question it, just enjoy it.  

It does remind me we will be seeing new life spring up all around us very soon.  There will be small buds beginning to appear on plants and trees which seemed to have no life.  What we did not see was the process happening in the roots, all beneath the surface.  Plants and trees were preparing to bloom once more.  They had promise and hope waiting to burst open at just the right time.  If they opened too soon, the frost would overtake them.  If they opened too late, the heat could become too much.  They have been preparing for this opening all winter long.  It will all happen at just the right time.  And we get a front row seat to the hope which awaits.

It may not feel like it but God is working in you as well.  You may feel quite dormant.  You may feel lost or hopeless.  You may be experiencing so great a grief you wonder how you will take another step.  There is something happening within you.  God is helping you through your grief.  He is sheltering you from the storm. While you may feel like all has collapsed, he is really helping you to retreat until it is time.  

Grief is so different than many of us expect.  There is no timeline.  There is no set ending.  There is no program we go through so we get our certificate at the end.  It is an experience.  We all experience grief slightly different.  We have unique connections to the ones we have lost.  We have our own ways we react.  Some may talk through their pain.  Others may stay completely silent.  Some may weep openly at any moment.  Others may never weep where anyone sees.  Some may seem to spring right back while others stay dormant for quite a while.  The most important thing to know is we all experience this differently.  There is no comparison.  There is no right or wrong way to grieve.  We shouldn’t impose our way of grieving on anyone else or expect ourselves to react like others have (or tell us to).  It is an experience we must go through.  

No matter where we may be in our grief, there are buds of hope waiting to spring open at just the right time.  There are small miracles in our lives which help to soothe the pain.  There are gifts which we get to experience when we look around.  Blooms will appear, not too early and not too late.  We don’t go around opening up blooms on plants.  That would be devastating.  We can’t go around forcing ourselves through this grief either.  Hope awaits.  We will bloom at just the right time.  When we bloom, we will know God has been with us through it all.

February is a time when we think of love.  Cupids appear, cards fly off the shelves, and candy with flowers is the staple.  How better to express love than with little chocolates and roses?  This is the time of year when people talk about their valentine and love should be in the air, or at least that is what the commercials tell us.  It can be a beautiful time, if you have bought the “right” gift or if you are with the “right” person.  Overall, though, it can be an overwhelming time for many.  There are those who have not found their love yet, those who are miserable with the ones they are with, those who do not want to celebrate something they do not feel…and then there are those who struggle because their love is no longer here.  Grieving the loss of a loved one can make this holiday even more challenging.  With all these discussions of love and relationships, it can seem to be a cruel time rather than a celebration.  And we could just skip over it, ignore it all.  Or, it could be a time that we are reminded just how much we are loved.

This could be the right time to remember how much we were loved by the one we are missing so much. Whether we are missing our spouse, child, parent, or friend, this is a time we can remember the love that was shared.  We can remember the times when we shared a good belly laugh and had a great time.  We can remember special moments that only we would understand.  We can give thanks for the love that was given to us and that continues to grow within us.  

Love is not over.  Death does not stop love or end it.  Our love changes in the way we express it, but it does not change in the way we feel.  Love changes, but it does not end.  In the Bible, we are given an example of love that seems out of reach.  1 Corinthians 13 is an often quoted scripture but we never seem to grasp the enormity of the love.  In summary, we read that love is patient, kind, does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, is not self-seeking, is not easily angered…and it doesn’t stop there.  But what I think is transformative is this:  love always hopes, always perseveres, and love never fails.  Death does not take love away.  Love never fails.  That is powerful.  Consider how your love never fails…and the love given to you doesn’t either.

Remember that you are loved.  You are still very much loved.  No matter where you find yourself during this time, love has not left you.  We are also told in the Bible that God is love.  Since love never fails, neither does God.  He has not left us nor abandoned us.  His presence may not seem always apparent, but that does not mean we are alone.  We are loved beyond measure and this love is unconditional.  We have not earned it.  We do not do enough to deserve it.  God simply loves because that is who HE is.  

This Valentine’s Day, regardless of where you find yourself in your grief journey, take a moment to remember the love you have been given.  Celebrate the love that has been shared with you and continues to grow in you.  Remember that love is not over and death cannot steal this love.  Love never fails.  And God’s love is the most powerful love ever…and this love is offered to you.  You are loved.

Fear has a way of sneaking up on us.  We do not always notice it is so near.  Our reactions can be based on the fear we feel deep inside.  It may not sound like fear or even smell like fear.  But when we seek out the source, there it is – hiding in the depths.  Fear causes us to get angry.  It causes us to lash out at people we really love.  It pushes us to stay away and hide.  Fear can be the driver in so many of our emotions.  It seems even more pronounced when we are grieving.  

When we are grieving, we are experiencing the painful loss of someone or something so very important in our lives.  We are changed and change is scary.  We fear change, at least most of the time.  Even when the hospital visits and doctor offices have filled our schedules, it becomes routine.  But not having someone by our side – that is scary.  How do we function?  What do we do without them?  How do we move on when all of our plans included our loved one?  How are we to survive when we feel the wind has been knocked out of us?  Fear is real and it can really immobilize us.  But it does not need to.  Fear does not get the final say.  It may have a hold for a while, but it does not consume us.  

It is important to recognize when fear is in the driver’s seat.  When we can stop and see how our fears are causing us to react in certain ways, this is the beginning.  It takes time.  It takes courage.  It takes real self-discovery.  But it is possible.  What are we fearful of?  Is this fear something we can do something about?  It is a rational fear?  Does fear look like loneliness or anger or sadness or withdrawal?  Does it feel like heartbreak or tears or anxiousness?  

Once we recognize we are fearful, we can begin to address it.  It is not easy but it is freeing.  We write down our fears.  We see them and we acknowledge them.  Is there someone we can talk to about our fears who will just listen?  Is there someone we trust to share our thoughts?  As a person of faith, I bring my fears to God.  I know he created and understands me.  He gets how fearful I really am.  He hears my cries and experiences my tears.  He reminds me over and over again of how he holds me up and carries me through.  It doesn’t mean I am not fearful – it means I have someone to walk the journey with me.  Eventually the fears lose their power over me.  Eventually, there is peace.  Fear does not win.  

If you find you are living in fear, know you are not alone.  Hear this is normal.  Fear is real – but fear does not have the final say.  God does.  May you find rest in him.

The azaleas seemed to burst open with color out of nowhere.  One day, they seemed to be ordinary green bushes.  The next, they were vibrant with the most beautiful array of colors.  It happened in what seems to be overnight.  In a symphony orchestrated by God, he opens the blooms and the magnificence shines so brightly.  It is amazing to see and experience.  It really is hard not to notice the vibrant colors.  You have to work to not see it.  Even in our over-caffeinated worlds, we can still experience the beauty.  

On the contrast, there are pecan trees.  The one in my side yard is the late bloomer.  Every other tree has buds, blooms and leaves.  But not the pecan tree.  For a few years, I was sure it was dead.  I was convinced it was not coming back the next year.  And then, in some unexpected way, it makes its appearance – slow and methodical.  I notice the buds form and when it is time, there are leaves.  Eventually, there will be pecans – or at least what the squirrels don’t take before they fall ripe and ready.  

Time is the key in all of this.  We don’t try to open azalea blooms before they are ready – that would be a disaster.  We don’t give up on pecan trees simply because they didn’t blossom when all of the other trees did.  It is all based on time – and this timing is not ours.  There is a time and a season for everything.  That includes grief.  Grief has its own time schedule – we don’t get to set it or alter it.  We can try and rush it but it would be more disastrous than trying to open the azalea blooms before their time.  It won’t work.  Grief sometimes creeps along, seeming to linger in our lives way longer than we think it should.  It is like the house guest who outstays the welcome.  And then, as if it is out of nowhere, grief improves.  We feel relieved.  We feel a sense of peace and calm.  We begin to see the clearing, understanding that we are not in this alone.  It doesn’t mean the grief has passed.  It simply means it has changed.  It has taken on a new part in our lives.  We begin to cope and process differently.

The thing is – no one else knows our timeline of grief either.  They may be expecting azaleas and you may be a pecan tree.  No one else gets to set our time frame.  They don’t get to determine where we should be in this journey and when.  They don’t get to decide what ‘getting better’ looks like.  They don’t even get to tell us what they think we should do because they have been through something similar.  What they do have the privilege to do is to sit with us and watch.  They can nurture and love.  They can wait for the blooms and celebrate when all is not dormant any longer.  They can’t force open the blossoms, but they can experience the beauty.  That’s what friends do.  

No matter where you may find yourself today, know we are all on a different timeline.  You may feel you are still dormant, never to bloom again.  Hold on, there is still time – God’s time and your grief’s time.  You may be concerned because you are feeling better and you are blooming.  It can be scary to see improvement when you have lingered in grief for a while.  Know that this is natural and a part of the process.  It is okay to be scared and a little worried.  Blooms will become a part of who we are once more.  All comes together in just the right time.  Take it one moment at a time.  God is with us.  You are not alone.

This winter season seems to mimic how it feels to grieve.  The nights can feel so dark and lonely – and so very long.  The days seem to be filled with tears which flow unexpectedly.  We can feel like the heavy clouds of rain just waiting to burst open.  There are glimpses of sunshine, though they do not appear nearly enough.  There are days of relief where all begins to find a rhythm of its own.  And then those days are interrupted by snow or lightning or other strange occurrences.  It is a crazy time filled with challenges sprinkled with speckles of hope.  

If you find yourself struggling a little more this winter, know that you are not alone.  Winter can be difficult all by itself.  The short days can make most anyone beg for a little sunshine.  Then, there is grief you are dealing with, to add to the challenges.  For some, night time is the most difficult.  It is when you notice the absence of the one you love.  It is when you are in the bed alone or sitting in the living room alone.  It becomes an endless cycle of challenges just to keep going.  And this year, we deal with even more.  As we fight this pandemic, we sense we are more alone than ever.  The normal tasks we would do to break up the monotony are changed.  We do not linger in a store or just stop by for a visit with a friend.  We do not sit down at a restaurant for coffee as we once did.  We have to be cautious.  Cautious can also mean lonely.  

These are all valid feelings.  These are challenges many are facing right now.  While there are no quick and easy answers, there is hope.  There is something beautiful in the making.  This is not the end.  Winter has a purpose.

Know that winter will not last forever.  It may seem like forever, but it isn’t.  Spring is just around the corner.  Take heart, the sun is coming up a little earlier and going down a little later.  It is a excruciatingly slow process, but a meaningful one.  Winter is a time for the earth to be  dormant.  It is a time of retreat.  It is a time when the earth rests and is fed, preparing for a time of blooming and production.  Trees which looks so bare are actually being prepared to blossom.  Seedlings low in the ground are being nurtured so they can spring up and produce bountiful flowers and crops.  A cycle of goodness is in the works, even when we do not recognize it.  

You may feel pretty dormant yourself right now.  This may be the time when you rest.  This may be the time when you are being renewed.  It is often painful.  It can feel like you are being stripped bare of all your security.  It can feel as though you are all alone.  But Spring is coming.  There are still joys ahead to be experienced.  While the blossoms may look different, they are still beautiful.  You are being loved and held by an Almighty God who has promised to not leave you, especially in your grief and fears.  Hold on, there is better still to come.

Winter is not the end, but a time to begin again.  Know you are not alone.  You do not face these fears alone.  You do not struggle alone.  While all of our fears, struggles and grief journeys look different, we all travel. Sometimes the path gives us hope and peace.  Sometimes the path is filled with storms and hills.  And sometimes, we simply get to hide in the shelter of the Almighty until we are ready to travel again.  Travel well, my friends.  Spring is coming.

We can feel like time is standing still, as if everything is moving in slow motion.  The clock seems to tick slower and the hours drag on as if they are on vacation.  We look at the clock again and again.  What could be hours is really only minutes.  This is where we can find ourselves when we are dealing with our grief.  It can feel lonely and especially painful, all which seems to have no end.  

Yet, we look at the past and it has flown by.  The celebrations, the momentous events, the milestones all feel as though they came and went so fast.  When was she that young – we ask looking at pictures.  Do you remember when he did that, it seems so long ago – we giggle as we think back on a memory.  Our minds are filled with treasured moments that can seem so far away, as specks in our rear view mirror.  

Time ticks on – one moment at a time.  Moments, days, weeks all pass – we move the calendar forward.  We set timelines for ourselves.  Now that I am in a new year, surely I will feel better – we tell ourselves.  By February, I shouldn’t still be crying when I hear his name – we so desperately hope.  Tomorrow I am going to get out of bed and find joy again – our heart cries out in an attempt to calm our anxieties and fears.  

We put timelines on our grief and can’t wait to move on.  But grief doesn’t work like this.  We don’t wake up one day and it is all gone.  It isn’t a disease we are cured from.  Grief is a process, a journey which has to be traveled.  Sometimes the journey is painful.  Sometimes we find the belly laughs of memories from times past.  Sometimes we can barely step forward.  And sometimes, we find ourselves running into the future.  But we must pass through, we must journey.  If not now, we will later.  If we put off the journey, it will come back in compounded force later.  We will face our grief – and it will look different for each of us.

Just as we can’t put timelines on our grief, neither can those around us.  Just because someone else in a similar situation was at a different point than you doesn’t make you bad or wrong or right.  It makes you unique.  It means your journey is just that – YOURS.  No two grief journeys have the same timing.  No two relationships are ever the same.  Just because two men both lose their wives does not mean they will grieve their losses the same.  It will look very different.  So don’t compare your journey or your perceived progress with anyone else.  Don’t beat yourself up because you are still struggling or because you feel better than someone else.  It isn’t a race.  It isn’t even something you can compare.  It is an individual trek you take.  There are friends and family who can help all along the way.  But they also can’t set timelines or tell you when you aren’t getting better fast enough.  This isn’t their journey either.  

We are in unusual times.  Grief has always had its own agenda.  It has always been on its own course and in its own time.  But with our pandemic, there are even more unknowns.  With social distancing and the lack of support due to safety issues, your timeline may become even longer.  It may take even more time to find your way in your grief journey.  You may find yourself even more lost along the way than you could have even imagined.  Know you are not alone.  There are many feeling their way through the maze of grief with the hovering cloud of a disease blocking much of the light.  Just keep moving forward, one tiny step at a time.  

Your grief journey is just that – your journey.  Take your time.  You will find your way.  Know that friends and family will support you on the journey.  Know we are praying for you as you travel.  Most importantly, know God is always by your side, no matter how dark and lonely the path may appear.  You are never alone.  

There are unanswerable questions.  Most of us don’t like this fact.  We don’t want to accept it.  We spend our time and resources and energy trying to figure it out.  We wear ourselves out spiritually and mentally, replaying the steps and wondering what could have gone differently.  We want to know why.  We want to understand what happened and why it happened and how it happened.  And for so much of our lives, there just are no answers.  That can be frustrating.  

We live in the age of Google and nearly every other search engine you can think.  If someone is talking to you, you can fact check what they are telling you.  And there is a chance you could actually stumble on some facts searching this way.  We want to know how to make something, so we look it up.  We want to know how to repair something, we play a YouTube video of it.  If we want to hear something in a different language, there is an app for that.  There seems to always be an answer for every question.  There is this thirst to know in a moment, so we search for the fastest network to get us the answer.  We want to know, we want to know it now, and we do not want to take not knowing as an answer.  There must be an answer.  Except, sometimes, there isn’t.  

When we grieve, we can replay events or situations over and over.  We want to know what would have happened if we tried something else.  We want to know why our loved one was in that situation on that particular day.  We want to know why he got cancer or she had her cancer return after fighting so long.  We want to understand how one day he was doing fine and the next day, no longer here.  We have this desire to know and to not know can really hurt us as we seek to grieve our loss.  

Since there are not answers to everything, how do we come to a place of peace?  How do we begin to heal when the wound is still exposed?  How do we accept we will just not know all the answers?  It begins with understanding there are some things we were not meant to understand.  This world is filled with the unknown. So we begin to focus on what we do know.  We do know that we loved the one we are missing.  We do understand we did the best we knew to do with the resources we were given.  We do know God was with us on the journey and continues to be with us through it all.  We can know that although God has many mysteries, his love is not one of them.  We can sense his love.  We can experience his love.  We can see it and share it and become completely overwhelmed by it.  His love is bigger and wider and more vast than our minds would ever begin to comprehend.  We may be suffering here and now, but that does not mean God does not understand.  It does not mean he does not love us.  It does not mean we are abandoned.  It means there are mysteries we cannot know and we cling to the One that does understand.  We cling to God and his love when all else seems to be collapsing around us.  We hold tight to the promise that God is always with us, no matter where we may find ourselves in the journey.  The greatest mystery is also the greatest comfort – you are not alone, you are loved.  

You do not need to have all the answers.  It is okay to not understand the process.  It is acceptable to feel lost and confused.  Just hear that God is with you.  God loves you.  And God will not leave you.