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 21st, 2022
SPRING: Expect!
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)
Weeks heaped upon weeks, she’d lain as still as possible. Every movement seemed to induce another contraction, a tightening and clenching of every muscle in her abdomen. Eventually her OB-GYN inserted a catheter because even the mundane exercise of waddling to the bathroom every hour was a fresh invitation for another round of pre-term labor. Her medical team of doctors and nurses had gotten her on a routine of medications, given intravenously, and somehow, everyone had grown accustomed to this altered state of being. The one truth that kept her motivated as she watched her belly exacerbate and her limbs swell, as she felt her face break out and hair fall out, was the fact there would most definitely be an end to this madness. There was the flicker of a light at the end of this very long and winding tunnel. That, and the fact they had all been holding their breath, suspended on a gasp, a sigh, that the baby would be here soon. They were expecting great joy to flood their home and miraculous memories to be made, and once the incision of inconvenience and fear grew closed and could heal, then all their tomorrows would come into focus. Yes, they were expectant!
Then the real countdown began as the hourglass was upended for perhaps the final turn and it was determined the baby was healthy enough to be allowed to arrive. All at once, the past many months seemed like no time at all, and the nurses chided her with reminders how soon she’d be wishing she could shove him back up in there just for a short uninterrupted few hours for a snooze. She couldn’t wait to see the nursery her husband and father had been getting ready for the baby, couldn’t wait to run her hand across the rail of the new wooden crib or touch the tiny onesies her mom had been painstakingly folding and refolding as they all held their breath, expecting. She closed her eyes and pictured the black and white outline of their baby etched across the sonogram they’d recently ordered, the one where he was sucking his thumb while the other hand had lain across his face as if he was shy. Expectant!
As if on cue, the last of the meds which had been keeping him in place, in utero, dripped through the plastic hose into her veins, and once gone, the contractions began. At first it was the consistent pulsing in her ears but soon the cramping in her lower back and abdomen that caused her to catch her breath. Like an uncomfortable heavy weight bearing down on her insides, she felt weighted and moored to the bed. As if she’d forgotten how to walk in her many weeks of immobility, it became overwhelming to consider putting her feet on the floor. Her entire body expanded, ebbed and flowed, as she tried desperately to come to an inner place of peace. If she could just get back there she could make it through this perhaps and to the other side.
Grief, I found for me, is like this. There is fear and concern, sadness and hope, anguish and more fear, and the terminal waiting. Someplace deep inside of us is obscured an eternal longing for a loved one who is now gone. This seed of melancholy thrives and grows in the dark fertile place of longing, and we harbor ourselves on this side of the burial, expectant and hopeful yet distant and scared at what lies ahead and what is buried beneath the surface. When nurtured, there is growth; however, along with the grief, grows hope that there is possibly something colorful on the other side of this grey veil. Pulsing and cramping, tightening and pressing, all of life is attempting to work itself out.
And isn’t that what it’s all about? Living and dying is a matter of a Holy God working all things out. From the moment we take our first breath, He is here working all things out through our entire lives until we prayerfully make our way through to Him and to eternity. From the beginning of time, He has been working all things out for humanity, and grief as well as birth are beautiful tangible magnifications of just that.
Just when she can’t take anymore, there is one final thrust and a whoosh, and a throaty wail fills the room. She holds her breath and listens to the conversations thrumming around her, ‘It’s a Boy!’ ‘He is so handsome!’ ‘He is bigger than I imagined!’ ‘Wonder what he will weigh?’ ‘Daddy, would you like to cut the cord?’ ‘Do you have a name picked out for this boy?’ ‘You did so good, Mommy!’ All of it, the words, the emotions, fall around her like soft velvet, as she peeks at the tiny human laying on her chest that her body grew and pushed out, as the miracle of life, heartbeat for heartbeat, throbs, his with hers. A love so much greater than what she expected already is filling the room to overflowing and spilling out into the hallway. She expects that there is nothing she won’t do for this child God gave her. She glances up at her husband and takes in the tears drying on his cheeks. She expects this is just the beginning.
Just when I couldn’t take any more of the mind-numbing, body-snatching, heart-wrenching sadness, a deep sob came from within, expelling the grief I hadn’t been able to shake or understand. It was finally time. I expected sooner or later it would be time to move forward, to embrace the anguish as well as the memories, and to push out the dullness which had become life to me, and finally, begin to celebrate. The absence of my dad here meant his presence now with the Lord, and after all, isn’t that what the quest of life is about? from the first intake of air and a lusty cry to our final breath and exhale, to have graduated this life and be ushered into His presence…how could I grieve that any longer?! It was truly time to celebrate. You go, Dad!
Ecc. 3:2a, ‘A right time for birth and another for death…’ (MSG)
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)
