Let's Talk About Grief

A Season of Death

Ecclesiastes says there is a time for every purpose under Heaven.  I have always thought of these “times” as singular events – a time to cry, a time to weep, a time to mourn, a time to laugh, etc.  My mom mentioned that we are in a time of death…a season, really.  I’ve experienced 6 deaths in the last 6 months.  If that’s not a season of death, I don’t know what is.

Especially painful is the loss of my niece, Phoenix.  Precious, sweet girl who was so deeply loved.  There is nothing natural or right about death.  Everything about it feels wrong.  It wasn’t meant to be like this.  Rather, death is a vivid, piercing, searing reminder that we and this world are in decay.  Oh, how I long for Jesus to return and for Heaven.

A Taboo Subject

No one wants to talk about death.  Most people seem to only ask reluctantly how my sister and her husband are doing, if they ask anything at all.  And they don’t really want to hear about it – I can sense it in their nonverbal cues (well, they really only want to hear that everyone is starting to move on and we're doing better, day by day).   

There seems to be this sentiment that somehow there is a time limit on how long deep grief should go on.  I know because I used to believe that.  Oh, I would never say it quite like that, but I think I must have had a feeling that people shouldn’t remain in a depressed mode, after all, it can’t change the circumstance.  Now I know better.  When sorrow so deep overwhelms your life, there is no escape.  There is no relief.  There is nothing worth moving on to.  My brother-in-law, Luke, said, “Phoenix’s birth was an earthquake.  Her death was a tidal wave.”  When you’re sucked under a personal tidal wave, it’s like watching everyone around you breathe as you drown.

A Hope

Eventually, there must be relief.  "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life."  And that means even through all of this.  A mother could never “get over” her child’s death.  But I guess she eventually learns how to continue breathing and living in spite of it.  Time doesn’t heal, but it does soften the raw edges.

God makes all things beautiful in their time.  And He has set eternity in the hearts of men.  He must be glorified through this.  That little girl was so special and impacted so many lives in her too short 19 months.  I know I am forever changed by this season of death.  I will not take a single day for granted.

 

 

 

 

A List of Myths About Grief

I found this list of common myths helpful to think through.  How many of these do we subconsciously believe, I wonder?

Myth:  People with a strong faith don’t grieve.

Myth:  You should pretty much be back to normal after 2-3 months.

Myth:  You can tell how much a person loved the one who died by how deeply and long the person grieves the loss.

Myth:  Resolving your grief means putting your loved one out of your mind and moving on with your life.

Myth:  Christians shouldn’t grieve if they know their loved one is in Heaven.   They should only feel joy.

Myth:  Only immediate family members will experience significant grief.

Myth:  Continuing to talk about the person who died only makes the pain last longer.

Myth:  Grief proceeds through very predictable and orderly stages.

Myth:  After a loved one has died, you can never be happy again.

 

{Myths from Ch. 10 in A Time To Grieve, 
by Kenneth C. Haugk}

"No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." 

~C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

You Made A Splash

“Becky….Phoenix died last night.”

These words ring in my ears.  My sweet 19 month old niece had passed away in her sleep, found by my sister, Beth, that morning.

 

As we begin to gather together as a family and spread the tragic news and make arrangements for the days ahead, the waves of grief and shock are overwhelming.  It is surreal at best, crushing at worst. Sometimes I feel like all the words have been said and other times it seems there isn’t enough time to say them all.

It’s been a week now.  Looking back, it’s been a whirlwind of family gathering and visitations and all that happens when a loved one leaves us.  But in the midst of this week, time has all but stood still.  I would think hours had passed, yet a quick glance at the clock bewildered me, revealing only the passing of minutes.  I suppose this is what death does:  It slows us in our everyday busy-ness and forces us to look it in the face.  Our family has been forced to look death in the face much more often than we’re comfortable with in these last 6 months.  Death isn’t something we want to think about, talk about, read about.  As the wisened King Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes, death makes us contemplate the meaning of it all.  He says in Eccles. 1:13b-14, “What a heavy burden God has laid on mankind!  I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.”  But he also gives us the key to finding meaning in life when he advises, “Remember your Creator!” in the last chapter of the book.

I can affirm that my own faith has not been shaken.  God is good.  God LOVES us.  He loves Phoenix and Beth and Luke.  I have not once thought things like, “How could a loving God allow this?” or “God must not exist because how could He with this kind of tragedy in the world?” or “God must be out to get us because this is just cruel.”  But I also acknowledge that it’s only THROUGH God that I know that I know that I know He is good and loves us and isn’t cruel and has a purpose that’s higher than I can imagine.  This is the kind of faith that only comes from God – I can’t claim it.  I’m looking at Philippians 4:7 in a way I never have before.  It says: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  This is what He does – he gives a peace that can only come from Him, and in that realization, your heart and mind are guarded.  How amazing is His love that He never tires of showing us the ways He works in detail.

That said, this divine peace doesn’t mean my heart isn’t utterly broken and aching; my insides feel like they're on the outside.  These are the darkest days I think we’ve walked as a family.  If you are a parent, you can imagine, just as I do, what kind of void has been opened in the lives of Beth and Luke.  A void that by its nature is empty, yet is simultaneously so very full to the brim with grief.  I’m not going to “go there” just now, but we all feel the heaviness of that.  And I know that the deep sorrow I feel as an aunt cannot compare to that of a mother with empty arms.  I hurt because I feel the loss of my precious niece, but I also hurt for them and feel powerless to help.

1 Peter 5:10 says, “And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast.”  Oh, how I am eager to be restored after suffering!  To be made strong, firm, and steadfast.  I know He is working, even in this, for the good of those who love Him.  I know this in my mind and heart and body, but when you’re sitting in a place like this, it’s so hard to fully embrace.  

  

When Phoenix was born and we came to learn more about Apert's Syndrome, it became clear that her story was one which touched many hearts in a powerful way.  People who had never met her or even Beth and Luke gave money to help with her medical expenses, saved tabs and did other fundraisers, prayed for her daily, and shared in her life via Facebook updates.  Last Tuesday, Phoenix finished her 6 week swim class and the instructor awarded her a certificate that said, “You made a splash.”  Boy, did she ever.  Phoenix Roanne, you made a giant splash!  We are grateful for the tidal wave you brought to our lives.  

All my love,
Becky

37 and I Finally Know Who I Am (And that’s okay)

This birthday has been a tough one.  Let’s face it:  Getting close to the big four-oh can be a scary and depressing thing.  Especially when you don’t FEEL almost 40.  I swear, the 1990’s were just ten years ago.  Weren’t they?  Well, the good part of all this is I finally have come to recognize who I am as a person and this is a very freeing thing.   

For those of you who are interested in this admittedly narcissistic post, here are 5 highlights:

1.     I am an introvert who has learned to act extroverted. 

I am always borderline on those personality tests – sometimes I and sometimes E.  This isn’t a case of multiple-personality.  It’s just that I tend toward introverted qualities (i.e.  waiting and watching before joining in, needing personal alone time, daydreaming, preferring to work alone) but am in quasi-public positions in which it is beneficial to behave in more sociable ways.  So I do.  It’s not fake – I’m still ME-  but it’s also not necessarily my bent.  I can be led or I can be a leader.   And that’s okay. 

2.     I will never be the epitome of a perfect “stay-at-home” soccer mom.

I’ve tried.  And I’ve failed miserably.  I love my kids more than I can possibly explain in words but I’m a better mom when I’m a “work-outside-the-home” mom.  God calls us each to a particular path in life.  And that’s okay.

My crazy family - better than a clean house any day!

3.     I maintain a messy house on a weekly basis.

And I no longer feel the need to apologize.  Do I love clutter?  Nope.  But it happens.  And that’s okay.  Do I love a clean house?  YES.  I love to get everything picked up and scrubbed and looking beautiful.  I’m thankful for all the things I have and I like being able to take care of them when I have the time to devote to it.  But it isn’t my first priority and that’s okay, too.

4.     I am talented and smart and can accomplish what God has called me to (through Him!).

Hear my heart.  I debated whether to include this realization in this post because I don’t want it to be misconstrued.  But here it is:  I have struggled with self-esteem for most of my adult life, but here in my late 30’s, I’m finally accepting the fact that I DO have talent and ability.  I may not be the most talented or intelligent or beautiful person in the room – there is always somebody better – but that doesn’t mean my contributions to the world are worthless.  In fact, I’ve been surprised time after time at every single, seemingly insurmountable, task that God has brought me through successfully and unscathed.  I can’t take credit for a single “achievement,” but I recognize and am grateful that God has chosen to use me.  The talent He has given me is more like Salieri’s than Mozart’s (see the movie, Amadeus, if you don’t understand this reference! Here's a CLIP!), but it’s still talent and He expects me to be faithful with it.  I have spent a lot of time in prayer over my weaknesses (self-doubt being one of them), and yet His Word speaks truth to my soul:  “Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me.  And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me…For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (from 2 Corinthians 12:8-10)  He has proven this in my life over and over.  My passion may exceed my talent, but all things are possible through Christ.  And that’s okay.

5.     I am right where I need to be.

I have prayed for a long time that God would empower me to leave a legacy for Him – a handprint on this world.  And in my mind, this was always to be something very special, something very big and visible.  Maybe this self-imposed expectation has contributed to my feelings of inadequacy (see #4 above) but there it is.  HOWEVER, God has shown me that He has put me in the perfect place to leave a legacy for Him…something not so big and visible, but perhaps something more meaningful in the grand scheme of things (which He sees and I do not).  He delights in reminding me of this on occasion. For example, I prayed one morning for some encouragement because I was feeling down about some things that were happening in my singing ministry.  How did He answer that prayer?  Not in any way I would have thought!  He placed in my path that very day three different, random people who told me how much my classes and teaching meant to them.  Wait a minute…my TEACHING?  Not my singing?  Not my writing?  Yes, as a teacher, God can use me to inspire and influence and plant seeds of hope!  And I’m learning this has been the case over and over, much to my surprise.  The legacy I am leaving is more like a trail of fingerprints than one huge stamp, and that’s MORE than okay.

There are others, but this is enough for one blog. It's a strange thing to realize that I am now old enough to be the MOTHER of some of my youngest college students.  But recognizing some of these things about myself is, in a way, more freeing than being in my early 20's and looking ahead to my whole life in front of me.  Life is funny that way. And you know what?  I STILL have my whole life ahead of me, however long God has planned. ;-)



Grace and peace,
Becky