When I was growing up a common expression of surprise whether good or bad was "Good grief!". But somewhere along the painful road of life good grief became grief wasn't good. In fact, it became a sign of something bad about the person grieving due to the misunderstanding or confusion of the pain, especially if it didn't go away or at least go away soon. Pain and grief in the beginning draw empathy but as it lasts beyond expectations it can become an inconvenience to those around us. Our own guilt grows when we think we shouldn't be hurting so long or so deeply.
The great irony of this is most profoundly displayed in the death of someone's child, regardless of the parents' and child's ages.
The reason I write about this is on December 8th 2004 my 43-year-old sister, Lore, died after a long series of illnesses which included as much suffering as any example I've seen in my lifetime. Though she suffered so much, the two ministers that presided over her funeral both prayed that their faith would be strong as hers. She was a testimony to the faith of our parents and grandparents. We had some big shoulders to stand on growing up.
Lore was literally the closest person to me . Yet she was my mother's child and to lose a child is the most unnatural of all deaths experienced by families and the greatest of painful experiences of loss.
Being also so close to my mother and alongside her, this loss for her made my grief a pale comparison. Some of you know my mother and she's amazing. She comes from a long line of strong yet captivating women. But this loss was the hardest trial of her life in my opinion and she, as many do, deeply struggled not only with her grief but how it didn't let up. In addition to that burden, often people would act toward her like she should be getting over it sooner than she had or at least that it should be lessening. Often her freedom to grieve was almost stolen from her. We had many long talks about this.
A couple of years before this two of my dearest friends, Sid and Karen Smith, lost a son as a senior in high school. I went to their house the night it happened as I did to mom's house a couple of hours after she called me with the news of Lore. Nothing I could write could explain what I felt being with mom or Sid and wondering how they felt and how someone can take that kind of pain. I'm not sure anything I've witnessed strengthened my faith more than the privilege of walking along with them as time continued to roll on and still does.
We never get used to death. All loss we experience is a form of death. The pain and grief from loss is probably the most misunderstood of all feelings. The heart of who we are is constantly questioned from loss yet suffering is said to be a privilege in Christ.
Are you grieving? Praise God our Father you allow it by his mercy and be strengthened by Him so that you don't have to be strong. Heal on through grief and let it be transformed by Him.
We will begin dancing again as a star.