Unpredictable Grief

"But He knows the way that I take..." Job 23:10

"Not that I'm over it but little by little its getting easier to pretend it's easier which means easier must be around the corner...". so often that's our temptation, if we can't make ourselves better maybe we can at least pretend that we are better? Of course that won't actually make us feel better but it will take off some of the pressure we feel from those around us that we feel we've exhausted with our seemingly endless grief. We might resort to small talk or maybe just isolation so we don't have to face the impending waves of grief, sure to topple us over if we face them.
We want to control it, to confine it to terms and stages, we don't want to believe that we're at its mercy. As I've observed grief in the last year, in my own life and those I love, I have learned that it is anything but predictable. We may determine to pick ourselves up and be well but the wave of grief is often stronger than our determination. We may shove our grief into categories but we'll find ourselves disappointed when we go "backwards" and wind up at the beginning. But the reality is, grief is unpredictable, it follows no pattern and no set of philosophies can pull us out of it.
I have longed to learn how to grieve well, in a way that brings hope and healing and hopefully a growth of character. The temptation is to cover it, hide from it and do anything but feel it and let it bring us to our knees.
There is no magic formula, no five or twelve step process, no words or phrases that if repeated enough times will pull you out. Even saying that grief is a "process" is in some ways our attempt to exercise some control. If it's a process, it must have a determined end. If I take all the steps in the process I'll get there. But the truth is, grief is messy and inconvenient and certainly untimely. 

We're afraid that we'll never come up again. Afraid that we can't pull ourselves out. And the truth is, we can't. We would give anything to let go of the doubts, fears, anxieties, what if's, the crushing sadness...to find peace, to trust and hope in the unknown. And there are moments where we have all that, but then, without warning, the wave of grief can topple us over and we find ourselves on our knees again. 

And we feel guilty that we're still sitting in it. Like we should have done something to pull ourselves out and it's our own fault that we're still here. And maybe in some cases there is some truth to that, we can certainly make things harder on ourselves and slow our process but often times it's just the unpredictability of grief. It's three steps forward and two back, it's a lack of control and a realization that we are not all powerful and life doesn't follow a set of rules and despite what our culture tells us we can't have everything instantly.

Grief is hard and unkind and very very unpredictable. We respond with our fight or flight reflexes because anything is better than admitting that we are at our end, that we don't understand, that the pain is unbearable and we have folded under the weight of it. We want to be strong, to move on like everyone expects us to, to feel joy more than pain. And we will. We will feel joy, and freedom and a lightness that is currently foreign but there's no telling when or how we'll get there. And there's no proof that getting there faster will actually be good for us. Sometimes we need to sit in it. We need to stop masking it, replacing it, denying it and we need to sit and let the waves wash over us, until gradually, without us even realizing it, they begin to recede and we find ourselves able to breathe, able to see, able to stand with sure feet on solid ground.

In the meantime, though it may not feel like it, we can be sure that God has us. That while our grip is loose, His is strong. That while our vision is clouded, His is clear and He sees us. That while there are no easy answers, no formulas to heal our hearts and take away the pain there are answers. God is with you. God is working. As much as you'll be unpredictably taken out by grief, you will eventually find a surprising relief. It will come. He is faithful to deliver you, whether through or out of your trials, He will deliver you. In some ways I think we'll always grieve our losses but hope will find a way through the grief, over and over again, hope will find a way. 

It's ok that you can't hear him, that you can't see him. He's still there. It's ok that you don't know how to pull yourself out of the fog, you don't have to. Sometimes our most powerful prayer is simply, "God, help!" We need His help and we need to be willing to wait so that He can work out His purposes, he will not be late and He will come. Grief is unpredictable but our God is trustworthy, unchangeable and as much as we can count on the surprising blows of grief we can count on our God to meet us in our weakest moment and to bring us through. 

"But he knows the way that I take; when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold...he is unchangeable, and who can turn him back? What he desires, that he does. For he will complete what he appoints for me, and many such things are in his mind." Job 23:10-14
"But the Lord was my support. He brought me into a broad place; He delivered me because He delighted in me." Psalm 18:18,19

Sand Angels

The ocean is my place. When I feel overwhelmed or scared or anything at all...I go to the ocean.

Not only is it one of the most naturally beautiful places, it is one of the most powerful. 

I stand on the shoreline and feel very small, but in a good way. I know that the God who created the oceans, these bodies of waters that extend further than the eye can see, is powerful and mighty. I know that the God who tells the waves where to stop is as much in control of my life. My perspective shifts almost immediately and I am aware of God's faithful presence. 

The other day I took one of these trips to the ocean and witnessed a scene that spoke volumes to my heart. There was a little girl, about three or four years old, running. She was running fast and as her body gained momentum her feet eventually overtook her head and she flew head first into the sand. And then, she did the most remarkable thing...her sweet little sand covered face broke into the biggest smile and she began to giggle, she spread our her arms and legs and began to make sand angels. She didn't cry or grumble, she fell hard and turned a moment that could have been devastating into a moment that was joy-filled and life giving. 

I had come to the shores that day to bring my cares to the Lord, to ask Him to help me see that He is greater and that He is in control and how I longed in that moment to be like that little girl carefree and trusting, taking joy even as I trip and fall and try to find my way, knowing that even the hard falls can bring life and beauty. 

Have you made any sand angels lately? Where is God asking you to simply trust Him in the midst of trial? To trust and even embrace the sandy, painful places of life? 

"Their soul fainted in them. Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses. And he led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city for a dwelling place. Oh that men would give thanks to the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! For he satisfies the longing soul, and fills the hungry soul with goodness." Psalm 107:5-9