GOOD GRIEF!
Living Through Seasons of Loss
Ecclesiastes 3:11, ‘He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.’ (NIV)
October 26th, 2022
SUMMER: Rebirth!
Isaiah 55:8-9, ‘”For My thoughts about mercy are not your thoughts and My ways are different from yours. As high as the heavens are above the earth so My ways and My thoughts are higher than yours.’” (TPT)
Everything in life has an expiration date. Except God. I cannot think of one other thing that doesn’t bear an expiration date. Man was born to die, since the beginning of time. I believe I have heard it preached, since sin entered the world—when the snake crawled in on its belly right up to Eve in the Garden of Eden and tempted her beyond what she chose to bear—this too is when death entered the picture. Perhaps, had Eve not eaten fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, death wouldn’t exist, and therefore, no one would have to suffer loss of loved ones. But, clearly, that is not what happened, and our existence from the moment we are born is moving toward an eventual expiration date.
There is a silver lining to grief, however. If one knows Jesus and has accepted Him as Lord and Savior of their lives, we have the promise of heaven and spending eternity with God and with our loved ones who have gone before us and are in heaven, in Jesus’ presence. So, while a loved one is absent and no longer with us, they are immediately present with the Lord. What could be better than that?! To be set free from this travesty called ‘Life’ and wake up suddenly to find yourself in the presence of a holy God! I cannot think of anything better than that.
In fact, it causes me to reflect: I think grief is an imposter. It’s a con artist. If we really knew what lay ahead for a loved one and for ourselves, would we really grieve that much? That’s the hard thing, I realized this past year with the passing of my dad, grief is very selfish. It was for me I grieved; for us left here on earth, I grieved. Why would I grieve for my dad? He got to leave; he got to go! He got to shed this earthly shell, one for him that had aged and had been pierced by the woundedness of living; he got to leave it all behind and go! In fact, if anything, I grieved for me being still stuck here while he got to be freed from this world, no longer to have to fight the evidentiary battles of life. How amazing and epic! I thought, as I sat on more occasions than I can now recall while tears streamed down my face and longed for just one more day. That’s bizarre to think I would deny him one moment absent from this earth, and therefore, present with Jesus, just to soothe an ache I had to see him one more time. I had to have some strong talks with myself, some bootcamp minutes, some whipping-into-shape get-it-together moments.
Therefore, there can be a gracefulness to grief. It may not seem as if it is agile and refined and beautiful. It seems rather snotty and imperfect and messy, and remember? I colored it grey, non-descript. But because of its silver lining, I think there is rare beauty in the journey one must always take as we unbury, dig up, unearth our grief to understand and heal it, and thus, heal ourselves. It is like a rebirth of something old becoming new, deciding to live again even after a loved one who we long for is gone.
Isaiah 55:10-11, ‘”As the snow and rain that fall from heaven do not return until they have accomplished their purpose, soaking the earth and causing it to sprout with new life, providing seed to sow and bread to eat, so also will be the Word that I speak; it does not return to Me unfilled. My Word performs My purpose and fulfills the mission I sent it out to accomplish.”’ (TPT)
