Beautiful Grief

June 27, 2022 Cyndi

Grief. Something that we never expect to endure. Something that has no rules to follow as we navigate the season. It is hard, painful, and it can be isolating. But God is so faithful to show up just when we think we cannot go through another day of heartache and brokenness.

I was sitting here pondering on the last 7 months and it came to me that rising up out of the ashes of mourning is a choice. It is up to us to choose how long we will sit in the middle of the ash pile and grieve. There is no set time limit, but there needs to be a limit. A day must come when we rise up out of the ashes. There needs to be that moment that you know it is time to stand and begin to brush off the ashes.

When we allow ourselves to sit in that ash pile, we are allowing ourselves to become frail and stagnant. We become blackened by the ash and we grow cold. We lose track of what our focus should be and we become distracted by the pain that keeps us down.

Losing my son was the hardest and most painful thing I have ever faced in my life. But knowing that he is whole, healthy and on the fishing banks with Jesus and the disciples brings a smile to my heart. It doesn’t mean I do not miss him, on the contrary, I miss him everyday. But God has shown me that I cannot live in the ashes forever. My son would not want me to lay in a pile of grief the rest of my life. He would want me to use everything positive about the situation to show just how much God loves us.

Finding Beautiful Grief

Grief doesn’t have to be ugly for the rest of my life, it can be beautiful as well. Remembering a camping trip, a Memphis vacation or afternoon of a 4-wheeler ride is a beautiful way to grieve. Though there are no sad tears when these memories come, there are still tears. There are tears because I love him still. There are tears because I miss him. But they are not tears that hold me down in the pile of ashes. They are tears that lift me up to walk out this part of my journey with Jesus next to me.

The promise of God spoke through Isaiah tells me that there is a time for beautiful grief. A grief that will allow me to miss my son, but not be broken and disheveled. I can grieve in a way that will allow me to remember the joy of being his Momma and not the pain of being with a son. A grief that brings strength and not sickness.

“to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified. ” Isaiah 61:3 (ESV)

In order to get to the beautiful grief, I must choose to breathe and stand. I must choose to step into the water that will wash away the ashes. It is my choice and only my choice. No one can make me get up and wash off the grime of mourning. No one can tell me when to wash up, that too is my choice.

There are still days that I do lose my breath and I sit in a crumpled mess crying because the pain came rushing back in my heart. But, I now know that it is okay for those moments to come because they will not last as long. I am okay knowing that some moments will be tough, but I don’t have to live there. I am okay knowing that I can have joy and it doesn’t mean I no longer miss my son.

What is not okay is allowing the enemy to distract me with the brokenness. It is not okay to dwell in the midst of the ashes and never know joy again. It is not okay to let the lies of the enemy tell me that I must mourn forever or I don’t love my son. I won’t be drinking that poison and I will not let the enemy sit at my table.

Day by day, my heartache lessens and the brokenness begins to heal because God has a plan for all of this. Though I may never understand any of it, God knows every part of it and that, my friend, is the most important aspect of it all.