The past three weeks . . . how do I even describe them? One friend quipped, “The hits just keep on coming.” Yeah, that’s what it’s felt like, one blow after devastating blow of bad news, heartache and overwhelming sadness. It bends a soul down low. I couldn’t keep makeup on my face. Laughter sounded hollow and forced. My eyes were constantly brimming and the ache in my chest relentless. It all came to a head a few days ago. I lost it on a dear, dear person who is in just as much if not more pain than myself. I let the crazy come to the surface, fueled by a storm of loneliness and chaos that I just couldn’t handle. I was completely out of character, having a bona fide temper tantrum.
Grief is such a complicated animal. It’s never organized or predictable. I think we try to barrel through it far too often. A wise friend of mine said, “Sometimes we just need to really feel the hurt, to truly experience the weight of it before we can move past it.” The truth is that whether we’re grieving a death of a loved one, a failed relationship, life change or whatever it may be that’s happened and brings the grief into our lives; we cannot go back to the way we were. Pain changes us. There’s a before and an after. There’s healing for sure, but not necessarily recovery in the traditional sense of the word of returning to “normal” or to a previous state.
So there I was, shaking my fists at God as to why life seemed to be falling apart, again. Not just for me, but for people I loved. I felt helpless and hapless. I came to the point where it was apparent I needed my praying friends, desperately. I reached out, vulnerable and broken and asked for intercession. The great thing about being low is that there is nowhere to look but up.
God bless the prayer warriors in my life. God bless the sweet ones who cry out for me and beg God in honesty and faith to move on my behalf. They asked God to break ties that bind, to return joy to me, to draw me in to Himself, to help me SEE the gifts, to release me from depression, to heal. Friends, something miraculous happened. I went to bed Thursday night and for the first time in two weeks, I didn’t fall asleep with tears on my face. I awoke Friday morning a little confused. I felt rested. Really rested. The sadness that I was so accustomed to, that hung around my neck like a stone, just wasn’t there. I could breathe. There’s no explaining it, no reason . . . I believe He moved on my behalf and picked me up out of a pit.
Like an unexpected snowfall that comes quietly in the middle of the night, I awoke and all things were new and beautiful. Am I still grieving my losses and those of my friends? Yes. Have I regained my joy and remembered my first love and my reason to sing? Yes. Do I believe more than ever in His goodness? You bet I do.
So, fellow mourner, companion in grief, I pray for you. I pray that you lift your eyes up, Where does your help come from? (Our) help comes from the LORD who made heaven and earth (Psalm 121:1-2) I ask on your behalf that He would overwhelm you with His presence, that you would have reason to believe and reason to hope. I pray for eyes to see and ears to hear. For faith and the knowledge that you are loved, so very much.