Last night I wrestled with grief, yet again. It was a rocky
weekend for unexpected reasons. Writing helps me work through my grief, my
process, my faith. I finished a blog that was, in my humble opinion, pretty
well written. But I did not post it.
I thought, I’m tired
of writing about grief! I’m sure my friends are tired of reading about it. I’m
not sure I should post this. I know that this is what I’m walking right now
and writing honestly about what you know is the most powerful form of personal
story. But wrestling with grief is exhausting. It’s heavy and it saps your
energy. I want to write about funny or sweet again. I want to shake grief off
my shoulders like an ugly coat. I want to write about sunshine and unicorns and
butterflies. OK, maybe not that last sentence.
I started today trying to shake the heaviness of feeling low
by exercising and going to coffee with a friend. I shared with her why I hadn’t
posted what I’d written. She agreed this must be exhausting. It’s exhausting
for her just walking next to me and helping me through this. She wasn’t
complaining but she understood.
And then God sent me a reminder of why I’m still writing
about my process of grief. It came in the form of a Facebook message from a
stranger. Tears filled my eyes as a woman in Florida whom I’ve never met but who
teaches my niece and nephew sent me a note of encouragement.
“…I have kinda
kept up with your story because of your sisters. I started reading your blog
just because they had shared it with me and I was interested. I have laughed,
cried, and ran the gamut of emotions. Your way with words and total honesty had
me floored from the beginning. I have learned a lot about the grieving process
through you. Funny how God gives us what we need before we even know we need
it. Exactly 2 weeks ago, my sister received the devastating news that her
husband was killed on the job out of town. I went into immediate action &
drove the 3 hours to be with her. We traveled to North Carolina to retrieve his
belongings and I talked about your blog along the way. Because of you I knew
some things to say (& not to say) and knew how to help her with the
terrible tasks that needed to be tended to. I have shared your blog with her
& I know it will begin to help her heal...little by little. I just wanted
you to know I appreciate you & wanted you to know YOU are making a
difference.”
Oh how I needed that today. And as I finished reading it I
was reminded of the other people who have told me they know someone I don’t who
is following my blog. There’s the friend in Michigan who asked my advice on
what NOT to say to a friend suffering loss. There’s my late-husband’s cousin in
Indiana who is reading it, I’ve heard, as she struggles through a different
kind of loss. The tears could not be contained but now they were accompanied by
a smile.
I share her note not to brag about my abilities but to point
to a God who brings us what we need, when we need it. I was feeling this might
be pointless. I was feeling my words might be, well, actually, annoying. God
whispered today a reminder into my heart that He is using my pain to help
others. That has been the cry of my heart from the start. If I cannot use what
I’ve gone through to show others how faithful He is, what is the point? If I
cannot show that Jesus runs to the brokenhearted, then this struggle is meaningless.
So I guess I might post what I wrote last night. Because
somewhere there is at least one mom struggling to deal with the sudden loss of
her husband as she shepherds little hearts. Maybe she needs to hear what she’s
feeling is normal and there is hope. Maybe she needs to hear from another mom
that this will start to get better but that it takes time. Maybe she needs to
hear that Jesus loves her and is willing to walk through this with her.
Oh that God would continue to use my words to help others dealing
with grief. That makes it a little more bearable. That lightens my load.
