A Mountain of Grief
Over the past months, I’ve been dealing with grief in varying degrees and learning how to better cope with the losses in my life. Thus, this four-part series. I didn’t plan on this timing initially, but given the atrocities happening in Israel and Gaza this week, the topic seems appropriate. My prayers are with Israel and all the innocent people on both sides being torn apart by terrorists.
Piled up grief wreaks havoc on our soul, spirit, and body. I’m discovering this first hand.
Maybe when a loved one dies, because we can mourn publicly and hold a ceremony that signals an end, it seems a little easier to walk through the stages of grief and after time accept the outcome.
But what about grieving other losses and disappointments? And what happens when the losses come in multiples or one right after the other and accumulate? Do we know how to grieve? Do we even acknowledge grief in those situations such as estranged family, divorce, moving, or the loss of a job, house or friendship?
Or perhaps we suffer forfeiture in a transition—letting one thing go so we can move into the next?
What if crisis or disaster occurs? Do we recognize that as loss? We didn’t lose anything in Hurricane Ian. But the loss of our favorite memorable places because of a devastated Fort Myers Beach has kept me from returning there even though it’s been nearly a year since the tragedy. It still makes me cry.
We may consider, on a lesser scale, the loss of health, or the ability to be active because of injury or advancing age, or the disappointment of dreams not realized. But they are all losses that leave their mark over the years. What do we do with the emotions resulting from all of these places left empty for various reasons?
What happens if the grief piles up?
Due to some recent events, I’m learning about what the accumulation of grief can do to us. Discussions with a handful of close friends who have all experienced situations ranging from physical challenges, to crisis, or the loss of a loved one has broadened my perspective regarding the grief process, and how we each navigate it.
These conversations, often accompanied by tears (especially mine—I’m a crier), are also helping me deal with and learn to examine my current and past amassed grief.
In this series, I’d like to share my observations in the hope that they will aid others in exploring their grief and the losses leading them there. I’ve broken this into sections to better delve more deeply into this subject. As I grow and learn, I may only be one step ahead; perhaps even a step behind you in the process, but I believe we can journey together.
Not only can we benefit from each other’s experience, but we find comfort and consolation in Jesus, a “man acquainted with sorrow and grief.” Isaiah 53:3 In fact, he bore our pain on the cross so we could relinquish our burdens to him.
In Psalm 10:14, the psalmist says, “You, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand.” The same passage goes on to add, “You hear, O Lord, the [depressed in mind or circumstances] [longings] of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry…”
As we explore our feelings, I’m so grateful we have a loving God who walks alongside us, hears our cries, and knows what it’s like to be full of sorrow.
Grief, especially accompanied by trauma can take us down paths of further destruction as it did to my main character, Rachel in Rachel’s Son. If you haven’t read it, and would like to follow the heartache and eventual joy of a woman who’s baby was murdered by Roman soldiers in Bethlehem, you can get the e-book FREE for the next 5 days on Amazon.