I wrote my first blog post in February 2018, a mere four months after Dale’s death. For those who have been with me for the long haul, you may recall the purpose of those early posts was primarily so I could process through the pain of losing Dale, and let others look in on what all that entailed.
About a year later, this official ministry was launched, and the goal wasn’t about me working through my grief. It was about education. How to help us all be better friends to those around us who are grieving. And eventually, how can we who are grieving a loss of any kind, do so with a healthy and biblical perspective.
Sure, those topics are still sprinkled into my more recent posts, but there has also been a transition towards a more general, walking-this Christian-life “bent.” Since God is the creator of all my blog topics and posts, it’s clearly the direction he’s wanted this ministry to go.
Perhaps it’s even an indication of continued healing in my life, as I focus more on how to live in this broken world, and less on how broken I have been.
So, this is not an attempt to push back against God, because I love how he gives me ideas from the most unlikely places! But in the last few weeks, I’ve felt a gentle nudge back to the basics. At least for this week!
I have been facilitating GriefShare for over a year now, with five different groups meeting for 13 weeks, and baring their heartbreak to their fellow grievers. It’s an amazing program (for lack of a better term), that walks the participants through the hard realities of grieving, always with an eye towards the ways God walks alongside us.
I’ve often said that my favorite part of GriefShare is how unashamedly it validates the gut-wrenching realities of our losses. “Of course you’re hurting. No, you aren’t doing this wrong. You aren’t alone in your pain.”
Spending the past 12+ months witnessing the incredible losses from these group members, and often multiple layers of losses, has reminded me how pervasive grieving is in the world around us. And because no one is unaffected by the long tendrils of heartache, I want to reiterate some important truths from both sides of the grief coin.
If you want to be the kind of friend that all grievers long for in their lives, I have merely to refer you back a couple of paragraphs. Validate their grief. Let them know you aren’t afraid of their pain. That you want to be a listening, non-judgmental oasis in a world that wants to hurry them through their suffering. Be more interested in their struggles, than in your own awkwardness.
If you’re struggling with losses of your own (and who of us isn’t??), I have just a few words for you as well. Or maybe we start with just one word – balance.
That’s right, it’s that infamous joy-sorrow spectrum I’ve been talking about for over five years. I sincerely believe that to handle your losses biblically, you need to acknowledge that both emotions are true – often at the same time.
Don’t live your life 100% of the time on the sorrow end, refusing to engage with anyone who wants to help you – especially God! Don’t allow your heartache to define the rest of your life, resulting in zero spiritual growth. An endless pity party is not what God wants for you.
Now you might wonder what could be wrong with living life on the joy end of the spectrum all the time. After all, doesn’t scripture exhort us to “count it all joy, my brothers” (or sisters)?
It does. However, not with the “stick my head in the sand, pretend I’m not hurting” approach This world is fallen and your pain and mine are the consequences of that fall. We do ourselves no favors by pretending that our trial isn’t that bad.
When Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus, his tears were not only over his friend’s death, but over the fact that death was even part of this world. Jesus grieved and so should we. Don’t minimize the effects of sin, and by extension, all that Jesus endured to pay the price and set things right again.
Of course, we don’t get that joy-sorrow balance exactly right all the time. But I would encourage you to strive for a mindset that allows you to acknowledge the depth of your pain, while also knowing God can bring joy into your life by growing your faith through it.
It’s a journey I’ve been on for nearly seven years and I’m in awe of the God who has walked me through the sorrow, and still infused joy into my broken heart. That’s my prayer for each of you as well.
For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us
an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,
as we look not to the things that are seen
but to the things that are unseen.
For the things that are seen are transient,
but the things that are unseen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:17