Grief: A Journey

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Lao Tzu

 

Have you ever gone on a journey—a hard journey—not knowing or understanding how to navigate or find your way, hoping for or needing someone to travel with you? Maybe someone you love and trust to help you when the road gets rough, and someone who may need your help, too? Recently, I read a true story about a youth leader who sacrificed his first few days of marriage to accompany a high school student on a journey to Yosemite National Park. The student planned to drop out of school to become a rock climber, and because he had intended to travel alone, he was surprised that his friend wanted to go with him.

The student knew nothing of the youth leader’s marriage; but because the youth leader saw that his young friend had made up his mind and could benefit by having someone with a bit more life experience go with him, he chose to go on this journey—knowing that most likely his friend would realize on his own that this idea probably wasn’t the best. Within a couple of days on the trail, he did just that, and the younger man decided on his own that he wasn’t cut out for rock climbing and that perhaps quitting school wasn’t the best idea.

Life Journeys

Like the story above, where the two friends took an actual journey—and the younger man had his own journey learning some valuable lessons—there are different types of journeys in life: when we travel to new places, take a walk or bike ride, visit our grandparents or friends across the country, fly on a plane or ride a train. There are also the kind where we learn new lessons, change the way we feel or think, and the kind where we need help from others to understand our emotions. We often don’t understand that this kind of journey may not end in just a few days; the journey of grief has no stopwatch, and we don’t always know where we are going.

A Journey of Grief

Andrew Lindwall lost his dad when he was only four years old, and he needed help learning how to navigate the feelings and questions he had. Someone I Love Has Died: Grief is a Journey of Discovery is part of Andrew’s story. He and his grandfather take a walk—a journey—through woods, hills, streams, and valleys, and together they share thoughts and feelings that help them both travel a path toward understanding grief and a very difficult part of life.

“If you can’t fly, then run, if you can’t run, then walk, if you can’t walk,
then crawl, but by all means keep moving.”

Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own.
But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward  to what lies ahead. I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 13:13, 14

Faith…or Memories Make the Heart Grow Meek

Faith – confident belief in the truth, value, or trustworthiness of a person, idea, or thing.

Faith – the evidence of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

If I could, I’d add something to the definitions of faith —  faith is renewed  and strengthened by remembrance.

Sometimes when I start to have doubts or questions about the things I thought I’d already “figured out”; when I’m struggling with an issue or a belief or an emotion; something comes to mind that seems to settle those doubts — I’ll remember an event or a time in the past that long ago settled whatever my struggle is at the moment — and my anxiety or doubt or question will wane for a time. Until the next time I question or doubt.

Then I’ll remember again.

I’m not sure why all of this brain schizophrenia goes on, but since there is nothing new under the sun, I shouldn’t be surprised. Or maybe it’s more of a heart thing…maybe our memories, good and bad, are there to help guide and lead us — and if we learn from them, ultimately soften and gentle us as people.

It could work the other way, too; our memories could harden us and make us angry and bitter. Sad. But I think anger and bitterness are choices we make that harden our hearts.

I love a definition I heard once of the word Meek: controlled power. Hearts made strong and powerful, but soft. Meekness. Strength. Tender hearts. Faith. I’d rather choose Meekness and Faith over doubt and anger and bitterness any day.

So when those days come — and they do and they will — I’ll sit down awhile and remember why I have faith in the first place.

If we truly learn from the things in our past and remember those lessons from time to time, especially when doubt blows our way, then we become people who grow stronger with those doubts and questions, and hopefully our hearts grow softer toward God and others.

And it’s those times when I remember the goodness of God and His mercy and grace and work in my life that I also remember to be thankful — for the evidence and strengthening and confidence and softening that are truly part of the fabric of my faith.

Faith — remembering all we have to be thankful for and walking in that truth. It won’t make the dictionary definition, but it works for me.

Good-bye, Comfort Zone

Lately, I’ve been asking God why we are here, in Denver. Other than my husband’s job. OK, I guess that’s a pretty big one, but I know there has to be something more than just that. Why would God take us away from our home, the one we built with our own hands, the one we made home for 27 years? The one where we raised our kids, laughed, cried, built a pet cemetery, held neighborhood carnivals, held church meetings, rented rooms, hosted missionaries, planted gardens?

Yes, I have been asking that question – a lot. Moving into a house so unlike the one we left, leaving our cottage in the woods, leaving friendships we nurtured over so many years, leaving behind… leaving behind the life we made there. Leaving behind…

But we are here…and there must be a reason, an eternal one. And although the answer has been there in my heart all along, and has even popped up several times, I’ve quickly just put it right back where it came from, thank you very much. But yesterday, not only did I hear the answer, I also heard the solution. Our pastor gave it to me, although he didn’t know I even had a question. We are here because we have been sent. Sent. And I need to own my “sentness.” Yes, I need to continue to ask Him the question, Why have You sent me here? but with a different focus. I need to focus on my delivery. If I linger too long in the other place, I won’t be able to deliver on the task, the mission of sent.

This is a new and different place, a place I never dreamed I’d be. But if I have to be anywhere, I’m thankful that I’ve been sent by the God of the universe, because He knows exactly why I’m here. Jesus was sent, and He sends us, every day. He has given me a job, an eternal one. And He wants me to ask the question, regularly. Daily. But when I ask, the focus is not on the inconvenience or the change or the difference; it’s on the true answer, on whoever it may be. Maybe the neighbors next door, or the person I see in the coffee shop, or other parents who need encouragement. I’m given opportunities daily to deliver on sent. Am I going to ask the question at the right time with the focus on delivery? Or will I continue to look back and think about what we left behind?

Oh Lord, make me worthy of sent…give me a heart to deliver your Love and Grace, wherever I am, wherever is Home.