So, I’ve been sitting around thinking a lot about pain, joy, love, grief, God, strength and so on, not in any specific order. As I piece together the puzzle that is grief and my life living with it, a few things actually started falling into place.
First off, and I think I have said this before, there is no escape from the pain. I will feel the pain. There is no easy road. There is no reprieve. There is no free pass. The pain is there and will probably be there for quite some time – and will probably linger in some form or measure forever.
Sure I could try to escape it. Forget it. Avoid it. Depression and addictive behaviors lie there. But – to paraphrase The Matrix – I’ve been down there. I know that road. I know exactly where it ends. And I know it’s not where I want to be.
Conversely, I look at the other side of grief – well, maybe not the other side actually, but what lies in store for you when you walk with God and work through the grief. Greater strength. A closer relationship with Him. Wisdom. Given the end results alone, how can I choose otherwise?
Oh the pain, the pain! Yes, oftentimes unbearable. Many times sudden and overwhelming. Other times dull and constant and numbing. Confusing my brain. Confounding my steps. Oh, Dear Lord, help me take just one more step! And he does. And I do.
I went through all of the options, spun it around in my head a zillion times, tried to figure it out – to “solve the puzzle” - but I realized that I was trying to solve the wrong puzzle. I was trying to find how to ease the pain or get rid of it (or parts of it at least). But that is the unsolvable puzzle. You CANNOT get rid of it. The real puzzle is, How can I get through it?
And the answer, I realized, is God.
“But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
Yeah I could take some of that God given strength now, and every day, and every night when I’m up five times trying to keep my 20 month old asleep.
I ge this daily email from Griefshare.org and on Friday the last line said, “Lord God, teach me to embrace my grief and not fight it, so that I may experience the true healing that comes from You.”
So, Friday, I made this decision. Probably not a popular one. Not one that will sell books or help people in pain feel better, but it’s mine in any event. I have decided to grab ahold of God and fly into the middle this grief storm at full blast. No fear. Bring the pain. Why not? Might as well. It’s going to come anyway, right? And if I walk though the storm in God’s firm grip, I’ll come out better somewhere down the line.
One thing I will never forget that Anita told me. She said, “If I ever die, you’ll be all right because you’re strong.” And I draw strength from her believing in me – and God – every single day.
Greg–I’m sure that you’re absolutely right about the inevitability of the pain, but I sure wish there were a bandaid I could give you that would be big enough to hold it together and at least take the sting off the edges of the raw wound. Rey and I always send hugs and prayers to you and the kids. Please–come see us in Chicago next summer!
Once there was a small child crying because she was in pain from a skinned knee (or fill in the painful event). When her mom told her several times “Don’t cry”, she turned and said “But Mommy, don’t you know it’s the tears that wash away the pain?” Go ahead, feel the pain in your gut and cry the tears. That’s part of the healing process; it works, I’ve tried it. Anita was wise beyond her years, and she is right about your strength. And God doesn’t give you more than He thinks you can handle.