Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Grief



In grief,
all words
lose
their
volume.
I am struck by how inadequate words can be to a heart that is caught in the grip of grief. The one in grief desperately wants words that will heal, but knows there are no words. The one walking along side the one in grief desperately wants to offer words to lighten the burden, but even forming words of comfort becomes impossible. Why is this so?
One of the deepest wounds of humanity is the wound of connection. We lost it in the Garden. We were expelled from access to the life-giving tree and from God’s presence. In two bites rebellion was sealed in the human heart. In two bites we lost everything of importance. We unplugged spiritually and relationally.  
Today, we try to fill that void with substitutes that lack substance and depth. Instead of the sexual intimacy the way God intended, we engage in animalistic gyrations that lead to long-term emptiness. We try to numb the pain with things that our culture says will work. None of them do.
At the root of this longing is grief. Deep in the human heart is a grief for what was lost in the Garden. Somehow we know something is missing. When tragedy strikes we look up and cry out in anguish. Even those who claim to ignore the existence of God cry out. They shake their fist, but at whom? They know something is wrong, something is missing. And so they cry out.
Even Jesus-followers cry out. We read of the Old Testament hero Job, who in his grief cursed the day of his birth. In the middle of his pain, he questioned the value of his own life. And this is perfectly normal and even healthy. Grief can bring us into a deeper experience of life itself. It can teach us lessons that comfort never can.
So what can we do? How can we weather the storm of grief? Embrace it. Rather than running or numbing, embrace it. Give yourself permission to sit in it. You won’t drown. Listen to what God wants to say in those moments. Speak to God about your experience. Nothing you say will surprise Him, or cause Him to back away from you. Even when you feel like life is not worth living, talk to God about it.
Secondly, find someone who can just sit and listen without offering advice or platitudes. We need to have someone with flesh and blood with whom we can wrestle. We need to be able to pin them to the mat without fear of being put in a choke hold. We need to have the freedom to say exactly what is on our mind without scaring them away. We need to know they will be there no matter what. That is connection.
Thirdly, be open to surprises of grace. I have found that, often in the middle of the worst turmoil, God wants to speak to us in new ways. Be open to His voice.