Seems everyone is trying to bring balance into their lives in one area or another. I’d go so far as to say that it is a bit trendy to be working on that particular project. So, for a change, I thought I’d go with the trend for this week’s topic.
In all fairness, I have hit on this subject a time or two in the past, but I want to be a tad more intentional and specific today. I also want a post that speaks very clearly to BOTH the griever and their support people. After all, those are the two pillars of this ministry and I have strayed from those “pure” posts in the past as God has led me different directions.
So we’re back on the ministry track today. As I walk this widow path, I find that not only does my grief morph, but the way I try to make some sort of sense out of it also changes over time. So today’s post puts out a new perspective I’ve taken on recently.
Let me first state the new concept I’m now using to describe my journey, and what I believe is true not only in my life, but also in the lives of many grievers I know. Then we’ll look at it from both the griever and supporter angles.
I believe the key to finding some healing in our pain is to look for ways to balance that pain. I would even propose that, for the really big losses, there is very little healing. After almost four years, I still miss Dale every day and still shed tears over all that is gone from my life. The loneliness is worse now than 4 years ago.
BUT, I find great joy in the ways God has led me into this ministry and continues to sustain me and guide me. I find joy in old and new relationships that bless my life. I find my greatest joy in the infinitely greater depth of my faith and my relationship with God.
It takes all of those good things to begin to balance out the incredible pain of losing a spouse. That’s the pain I seek to balance. Your loss may be different, but I believe you, too, may require some balance work.
So, first my message to those of you grieving a loss. If you think there’s something wrong with you because you are still neck-deep in your pain, I’m here to validate that it’s OK to still hurt, and to still miss your loved one.
However, I STRONGLY urge you to find ways to add that all-important balance into your life. It may be family or friend relationships. It could be new hobbies or interests. It could be a new vocation. It could be a new calling BECAUSE of your loss. It could simply be a new perspective you bring to the world. It will be unique for each of you.
Now to those of you who are peeking in on our lives. My guess is that one of your first thoughts is, “How can you still be hurting so much after all these days/weeks/months/years? Surely you should have moved on by now and come to terms with this loss.”
Not an unexpected expectation! I know I’ve had those thoughts numerous times throughout the years. So, I have one basic “ask” of you. Please just believe us when we tell you how hard it is to be without our loved one. (It’s hard even if we don’t tell you!) Don’t judge us. Don’t compare us to someone else. I think you’re safe to assume most of us don’t show how deeply we hurt in our everyday encounters. But trust me, it’s there for many.
How do I know this? Here’s my “social proof” for you. I am part of a 4,000+ Facebook group for Christian widows and widowers. Multiple times a day, someone posts about how they still struggle with their loss, sometimes more than a decade after it occurred. They talk about all the triggers that hit them when they least expect it. They talk about how parts of their lives are worse now than after the death.
However, they also talk about the ways God has sustained them and deepened their faith through this journey. But the heartache remains, and sadly, most say that that Facebook group is the only place they can go where others will understand the depth of their pain. It is pervasive!
Of course, there are exceptions to this. But my experience these past nearly four years leads me to believe it is so much more prevalent than anyone knows.
What’s the answer? In a word, grace. Grievers, have grace with yourselves, knowing that this may be the hardest thing you’ve ever gone through. Stop beating yourself up for grieving. And, have grace with those who don’t understand. Honestly, I don’t want my non-widowed friends to understand this. Their time may come, and THEN they can learn their own lessons.
And from our support system, we need tons of grace for all the crazy things we say or do, for the times we seem to be stuck in our pain, for the ways our lives have changed forever. We cherish your grace to us!
The fountainhead of abundant grace is God. Ask him to help you extend it to yourself or others who desperately need it. You don’t need to conjure it up all on your own. God wants to freely give it to us, if we would only ask.
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
Hebrews 4:16