Grief in a Joyful Season
Meg Chaney
Recently, a friend prayed that I would feel the freedom to grieve. I had been sharing how tired I felt, how close I was to being physically and mentally spent, and she prayed that I would feel grief.
Does that sound weird to you? That she would pray for grief? Well, it strangly didn’t for me.
I am a perfectionist at heart. I like to be in control of all things. I like to try my hardest to keep things up to a certain standard. A standard that is, more often than not, of my own making. I like a plan. I like order. I like to check off all those boxes in my life.
Well, two times now, in the past few months, I’ve had to take a week off. A week to just be still. A week to let my body and my mind catch up.
Last week, I was hanging in there, but allergies were wrecking havock on my body. I was feel down, overwhelmed. I did make it out to a night of fellowship with some new friends. We ate salad together, talked about a Bible study we were starting soon, and shared the current state of our souls. And then, my new friends prayed that I would let myself grieve. Grieve for the things that were gone. Grieve over our recent move, that we really didn’t want to make. Grieve over the church and dear friendships we left behind. Griever over the new.
I didn’t know I had permission to grieve.
If anything, I’m hard on myself for not being strong enough. I’m hard on my self for feeling frustrated when I don’t have a new favorite grocery store, when we have yet to get into a good weekly routine. When life just feels overwhelmingly new and differently
I make a decided effort to see the new and exciting things in a move. I’m so incredibly thankful for all the needs God’s supplied for us. We truly love our new neighborhood, our new church, and we’re even settling in pretty comfortably to our new house. Life is so rich, so good. We’re loving the adventure of checking out new museums and restaurants each weekend.
And yet. Grief is a very natural, very human reaction.
Sometimes, I need the reminder that it’s ok to feel a little sad. It’s ok to miss the years we lived near the beach in Florida. It’s ok to miss the feel of the sand on my toes, when we would picnic each Sunday after church. It’s ok to miss the backroads of Alabama, the beautiful State Parks with amazing swimming holes. It’s ok if I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the City Life we’re experiencing now. As fun as it is, I miss small town life, splashing in the Creek, enrolling my kiddos in the local art program, lazy afternoons floating at the local pool. It’s ok to miss the things that became our routines overtime. It can feel frustrating to find a new dentist, chiropracter, workout gym. Some favorites aren’t easily replaced.
But they make up part of the framework to our story. They’re forever threads in our tapestry. Each chapter, changes colors and characters. But the memories, they’re sweet ones to carry close. My husband and I are now on our 7th address. It feels kind of crazy. I’m sure some military families can claim much more. But it’s still a lot in 13 years. And that, honestly, just makes us feel tired.
Life is full of beautiful, amazing things. This life we life, is a tremendous adventure. But it’s also ok to be a little sad. It’s ok to grieve the past joys that went by just a little too quickly. The precious favorites you leave behind. Perhaps your memories aren’t a place, but a season. A season of relationships, a season of children tromping through your house, upturning and cluttering each surface in sight, a church that you loved. a friendship you invested in. It’s ok to feel that pull. Maybe take a key from our Lord Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. He felt tremendous grief in that moment, and what did He do? He took some time away to pray. He took some time to just be quiet in the presence of the Lord. He was honest in how He was truly feeling in that moment. It was real pain, and He wasn’t afraid to express it. Is His experience different then mine? Absoultely.
But I believe that we serve a God who understands pain and suffering. He doesn’t discount even things we would consider not as major. And He sets an example of just giving yourself time to just be present in that grief. To just be honest about the transition of life taking place and what you’ve left behind.
I hope that you take the time to just be present. To just pray, and acknowledge the things your grieving from your past. It’s ok to admit that that’s where you are at the moment. It’s ok to grieve.
Grieve over things that didn’t pan out. Over a cross-country move that we didn’t want to make. Over a beloved job and church family that we had to leave behind.
And to be honest, it never occured to me that I could grieve over this. I was so caught up in being strong, that I didn’t know that I need some time to be weak.
To be transparent.
To admit that my body is under the weather this week, and a few days on the couch might be exactly what my soul needs.
Last night, my husband pointed out this scripture from Matthew 26. (We’re currently reading through the Bible in a Year via the She Speaks/He Speaks apps!). In this scripture, Jesus is sad and grieving. He recognizes the pain, and the need to pray in those moments. And so, He retreats to a quiet place. He takes the time to get away from the noise and prays.
“Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and He told the disciples, ‘Sit here while I go over there and pray.’ Taking along Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed. Then He said to them, ‘My soul is swallowed up in sorrow —to the point of death. Remain here and stay awake with Me.’ Going a little farther, He fell facedown and prayed, ‘My Father! If it is possible, let this cup pass from Me. Yet not as I will, but as You will.”
In a world that celebrates business and hustle, Jesus shows us that it’s ok to grieve. It’s ok to step apart and just be. Just be in the moment. Just be honest with God about how hard things are in the moment.
Jesus is honest, but then holds the situation back up to God. “Not as I will, but as You will.”
Sometimes, I need to be reminded to grieve. I get so caught up in being strong, self-sufficient, forward thinking, that I don’t slow down and just rest. Rest in the Lord’s presence. Process things, big and small, in my life. Our sociey is always rushing and moving on. You’re given a moment to feel sad, and then expected to just move on and feel cheery once again. Grief is awkward. People don’t know what to say. Or you worry that it will just sound like complaining. For me, I compare my lot to others, and my disappoints don’t seem all that major.