Reflections on Joy and Pain
Grief, not Rob Base**
My Mom had a stroke 10 months ago, and passed away 11 days later. This has been the one of the hardest years of my life, and the most emotional.
Early on, I had been counseled warned that the emotions will pop up suddenly and strongly, and then go into hiding for a while. I agreed mentally, but now I understand experientially.
A few weeks ago, I went to an event at my church, Surviving the Holidays. I went with a mindset more about learning than about sharing and grieving, since I thought I had worked through most of my grief. I was shocked by how emotion-stirring it was for me. By half-way in, I was drained. And that was just from reading the material and listening to others.
Here’s just some of the main emotions that hit me that night and as I self-processed over the next few days:
Regret and shame over not having more warm-and-fuzzy holiday memories with my Mom, especially as I listened to what other people where sharing.
Gratitude that last Thanksgiving, my brother had the idea for our families to meet at my parents’ house. We hadn’t done that in years, and it was a really great day for everyone. As we spent the whole day together, it also was the first time I saw how signficant my Mom’s dementia (Lewy Body Dementia, to be exact) had become.
Sadness, remembering that on December 26, 2022, my family met my parents for lunch at a Greek restaurant in Columbia. It was the last time I would see my Mom before her stroke. And one of the last times I would talk to her.
Fondness, for that same day, as I watched how tenderly and patiently my step-dad cared for my Mom.
From the Surviving the Holidays workbook, here are the biggest take-aways I got from what to do with my emotions:
Lean into the emotions, when (not if) they come. This is new for me, as I typically struggle to engage my heart/emotions.
Lean into Jesus. More on this below. And this is the on-going work.
Don’t numb myself. It is tempting for me to ignore my emotions and turn to food, work, or ministry (for a sense of accomplishment).
Leaning into Jesus
In the midst of all the brokenness over the past year, God has done a great thing. I have thought about heaven in the past 10 months more than in the previous 10 years combined. I’ve DESIRED heaven more in this time, and that desire is a good thing.
I am thankful that God is giving me the gift of a great desire for heaven, where I will be in perfect fellowship with Him, where my Mom and I will be in perfect fellowship with each other, and where her body is already restored and made perfect.
Death is not at all a good thing, but I have joy knowing that my Savior faced it ahead of me and defeated it. And through my grief, He is helping me put my hope in Him and His promises.
From Lila, by Marilynne Robinson
"The reasons that things happen are still hidden, but they are hidden in the mystery of God. Of course misfortunes have opened the way to blessings you would never have thought to hope for, that you would not have been ready to understand as blessings if they had come to you in your youth. . . . This is not to say that joy is a compensation for loss, but that each of them, joy and loss, exists in its own right and must but recognized for what it is. Sorrow is very real, and loss feels very final to us. Life on earth is difficult and grave, and marvelous. . . . When I say that much the greater part of our existence is unknowable by us because it rests with God, who is unknowable, I acknowledge His grace in allowing us to feel that we know any slightest part of it."
And:
"When you're scalded, touch hurts, it makes no difference if it's kindly meant."
A Personal Prayer, from Psalm 13
Yahweh, how long will I feel alone, even distant from You. A month? A year? Decades?
Why do I so often feel like You don’t see, don’t hear, don’t care?
When will I stop being hit with strong gusts of grief?
The moments when I’m down, is that satan*** trying to capitalize on the moment of weakness?
I need and crave Your voice and presence! You are my Savior and God.
Give me deep joy in the midst of my brief. Strengthen me.
I depend on Your strength and grace. You are graciously using my grief to make me depend on You more.
This grief will be used by You for victory — Your glory and my good — and not by satan to make be doubt You. By Your grace, I will stand grace strong for You.
I trust in Your lovingkindness. I have deep joy because You are my rescuer.
I will praise You, for You are good to me. I rest and rejoice in Your love.
**Bonus points to anyone who gets the reference in the subtitle. Double bonus points if you didn’t need a hint to remember one of my favorite songs as a teenager.
***Years ago, I heard someone say that not capitalizing “satan” is the Christian way to give him the middle finger.