I know someone...

I have a ministry.

Grief.

I feel called to this,

compelled to talk about it.

I do a fair amount of one-on-one grief counseling.

I co-facilitate grief groups with my Lanny Love.

And many of the posts in this blog talk about grief.

They talk about the experience of grief,

widowed grief in particular,

and what it looks like to walk through it.

They talk about grief being the price of love.

Not all of them are grief focused,

but many.

This one will also address grief,

but the other side of it.

 

I know someone who is a grief expert.

No, she is not a grief counselor,

she has simply suffered significant losses to death.

That really does make you an expert!

 

But this woman does not use her grief expertise

to help others heal,

rather, she has embraced grief,

made it who and what she is.

For years, she has been grief stricken

to the point of being incapacitated.

She rarely leaves her home.

She has few relationships,

just her children, grandchildren, and one sister.

She has wrapped herself in a cocoon of misery

and refused to come out,

spread her wings,

and fly!

 

She deeply and truly believes that

her grief is deeper, more profound than anyone else's.

Relationship does not matter.

She lost a brother.

Her grief was deeper than that of her parents'.

She lost a father.

Her grief was deeper than that of her siblings or mother.

She lost a brother.

Her grief was deeper than that of her siblings, his children, his widow.

I know this to be true because I have heard her say this.

 

She has taken this grief

and wrapped it around her like a blanket,

layer after layer.

Thick, heavy quilts,

weighing her down,

suffocating her,

snuffing her very life out,

leaving behind only grief.

 

She has been this way for many years.

 

Her grief has beget children.

Bitterness.

Anger.

Resentment.

Loss of faith.

Abandonment.

 

THIS IS NOT HOW WE ARE TO GRIEVE!

THIS IS NOT THE PRICE OF LOVE!

 

In the beginning,

that cocoon of grief is hard and unyielding 

and you need it.

It is your protection in many ways.

It keeps your loved one closer in the short term.

It keeps out the noise that might distract you from the work at hand -

because grief is hard, hard work!

But eventually,

the worm of grief begins to morph!

The weeping memories begin to make you smile!

The light of outside begins to creep in through that chrysalis

as it thins in preparation for new life.

At first, you close your eyes hard,

cover them with your fists against the light.

But little by little,

your fingers begin to spread

and you begin to peek through them at the light.

You start to wonder what might be out there.

 

You look back at the hard cocoon

and realize it was painful!

You look around you and discover

the love of your life, your mother, your child

is still gone.

You haven't preserved them at all!

 

You begin to feel uncomfortable and cramped.

You try to shift, 

to make your place of safety feel better.

But you can't.

You notice that the cocoon is getting thinner

and you fully open your eyes and look out.

You consider trying to come up with a way

to add another layer,

block out the light once again 

but only closing your eyes tightly,

covering them with your fists will do it

from inside.

And your eyeballs begin to hurt from the pressure!

 

You try to shift once again.

You can't.

So you poke at the chrysalis with one small finger,

just a little poke,

and it flexes just a bit.

You poke again.

And again.

And again.

And suddenly it gives

and a tiny little hole appears.

The light is much brighter now

and you find yourself straining toward it.

You look back to be sure -

is your companion, grief,

following you?

It is.

Is your loved one's memory still there?

It is! It is!

Is your love for them still intact?

It is! It is! It is!

 

So you strain just a bit more.

And the hole widens!

You feel warmth!

You hear life out there!

You stop looking to see if grief is following you.

You stop checking to see if your loved one's memory is still as close.

You only know MUST get out or die!

 

You wiggle!

You squirm!

You push!

You pull back,

gather steam,

push again!

And finally you break through!!!

You look around you at the vivid colors!

You inhale deeply of the sweet scents!

You tilt your ear toward the sound of music!

And slowly, a smile begins to form!

But midway through, it abruptly stops.

You drop your head in remembrance of the beloved left behind.

 

Suddenly, movement from the corner of your eye!

You glance.

Shocked, you look fully and gape 

in awe and wonder at what you see!

There he is!

The one you thought you selfishly left behind 

so you could be in the light. 

There he is!

More vibrant, 

more vivid, 

more alive in your memory

than he ever was in the cocoon of grief!

Because, you see,

 

LOVE ISN'T ABOUT GRIEF AND PAIN AND LOSS!!!

IT IS ABOUT RELATIONSHIP AND MEMORIES!!!

IT IS ABOUT THE THINGS YOU DID TOGETHER

AND THE THINGS YOU WILL DO IN HIS PLACE!!!

GRIEF IS THE PRICE OF LOVE

BUT IT IS NOT A LIFETIME SENTENCE!!!

 

Yes, you can choose to stay in your cocoon as my acquaintance has

but that takes even more work than breaking out!

Do not choose to make a life of grief!

Grieve, most certainly! 

You must! 

You cannot avoid it!

To do so means leaving your cocoon too soon

with devastating consequences!

But to stay permanently is sure death of your innermost being!

 

There is life after grief!

There will always be those moments

when the cocoon will try to wrap you once again.

But they are moments,

not a life!

You will NOT forget!!!

You will NOT stop loving - ever!!!

But there is life after grief!

 

Please! Please! Please!

Make the most of the time God has given you,

the LIFE God has given you!

Honor Him,

honor your loved one!

There IS a "happily ever after"

in a format unique to each of us!!!

Let God give it to you!!!

For everything there is a season,
    a time for every activity under heaven...

A time to cry and a time to laugh.
    A time to grieve and a time to dance.

 

                                              ~~ Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4 ~~