An Encounter with Grief

I have recently come out of what was certainly the most difficult season of my adult life. Praise the Lord it was a relatively short season. But it was seriously hard. I lost something very precious to me, and I have never felt so hopeless. The grief was overwhelming, and at times I had difficulty breathing, feeling the weight of my sorrow tangibly resting upon me. There were days I literally looked at the clock, wondering what I could do to make the time pass faster, wondering how I was ever going to make it to the next hour. I just wanted the day to be over. Why? I don’t know. The next day was often the same.

In the midst of it all, there wasn’t much I could do to alleviate the pain. There was only one thing—to put myself in the Presence of the only One who brings true comfort. The things that I would normally have used to numb the pain (i.e. movies, food, books) didn’t work. I found no enjoyment in anything. Literally nothing could distract me from what I was experiencing. So I sat in front of my laptop, with my headphones in, loudly pumping worship music into my ears, so I wouldn’t have to listen to my own thoughts, hoping the truth in the lyrics would somehow minister to my broken heart, and the sooner the better. I journaled; I wrote down everything about how I was feeling, and I was honest with God about how fearful I was I would lose this thing so precious to me (yeah, I saw it coming), then how angry I was that I lost it, and finally how hopeless I was once I had lost it. And I listened to sermons, the most encouraging things I could find—I badly needed to hear truth. And I poured out my heart to God. There were times I could do nothing but weep.

And you know what? He met me there in the middle of my storm. My friend Jesus who arrived at Bethany four days after Lazarus died and simply wept with Mary and Martha, empathizing with their grief, knowing all along He would raise His friend from the dead, yeah Him, He came and sat with me, and He mourned right alongside me, knowing I would soon make it to the other side, knowing He would be the One to carry me there. He didn’t belittle my sorrow at all. He didn't tell me to get my act together. He didn't tell me my sleepless nights were a waste of time. He didn't tell me my loss wasn't worth my tears. Actually He didn't really say anything. He simply validated my sorrow by putting every single tear into His bottle and bringing me comfort as only He can--with His sweet presence. And gradually, moment by moment, day by day, He brought (and is continuing to bring) healing to my heart, and He has given me the thing I could not even imagine having as I struggled not to drown in my suffering, the thing I cried out for more than anything--JOY.

 

 

"Where God is silent, the power of His presence is most profound in how He grieves with us." (Steven Furtick, Greater)

Every heartache will fade away: Every Storm (Runs Out of Rain)