âI tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me were thieves and robbers. But the true sheep did not listen to them.Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved.They will come and go freely and will find good pastures. The thiefâs purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.â
John 10:7b-10 NLT
Trigger warning: This weekâs post is about grief in all forms. While I will touch most on the topic of grief through the loss of someone we love, I also feel it is important to highlight that grief results from a variety of things. If this topic is too tender for where life has you, I completely understand. My hope in writing about it is to encourage any heart that has experienced grief to go to the arms of Jesus.
I vividly remember wanting to call one of my best friends to tell her I was pregnant with our third child. She was the one who would squeal, jump and make you feel like the celebration was just as precious to her as it was to you. I swear, the girl had sunshine wrapped up in her hair and smile and when she shared it with you it was nothing short of shafts of light, in a darkened world. But the day never came. I never heard her scream with delight like she did with my other kids. She never joked about sneaking my newest addition some cookies behind my back, or promised to be the doting adoptive auntie. Two years prior, she had passed away from cancer, and I never had that moment with her. I couldnât help but think how emblematic that was of grief. You go to reach for the light, only to find the clouds have rolled in.
Itâs been over a decade since her passing, and I still have moments of wanting to call my friend. I still want to go for high tea, spend hours at brunch, and listen to what Jesus has taught her. I want to hear about her convictions, and dreams. I want to know her council when I struggle, and in its purest formâŠ.I miss my sister of heart.
But here is the truth that grieving often tempts me with: sometimes I let the feelings, overshadow the truth that God is greater. There is more than one season of my life that has been marked by pieces in the wake of grief’s storm. More than one season I felt awash in the waves of grief. And more than one season I didnât know how I would get through grief. And like reaching for a friend who is no longer there, we often feel adrift disoriented about how to move forward.
We donât always experience grief from the loss of a person, we can experience it from loss of any kind. Each and every situation is unique, and each deserves time to process and pray through. Grief can result from the loss of dream. Loss of an expectation. The loss of something we were hoping for. And grief can result when we go to reach for those things and theyâre no longer there. The friendship is over. The job that never worked out. The dream for your family that never materialized. The breakthrough that you longed for never came, and your heart feels sick with the loss of hope.
I see you friend, and Jesus does too.
While I donât want to camp out in the heavy things forever, I know there are places in us that need to grieve. Places that need us to acknowledge they exist, there’s something broken, and those pieces need the presence of Jesus.
There is one who would love to let your grief break you, and there is one who will meet you in your grief to show you healing. More than a simple solution, I simply want to encourage you with this: your grief is valid. Pain is real. So is Jesus. Loss is real. So is redemption. Grief is real. So are comfort and restoration.
Let’s pray:
Oh Jesus, I can think of no better place to go when our hearts are hurting or experiencing grief, than to you. You will meet us, reveal yourself to us, and comfort us in our grief. Help us Jesus, to be faithful stewards of our walk with you by bringing you the broken pieces. You alone can make all things new. We love you Jesus, and cry out for you to meet us in our sorrow and suffering knowing one day you will turn it to joy in your presence. In your precious name, Amen.