Grief

The last week and a half seems to have been shadowed by death. It began with the tragic and unexpected death of a dear friend’s baby and was followed several days later by the passing of my uncle. The circumstances of each were very different and I cannot comment as to what grief looks like when you lose a spouse. However, both losses left behind mourning loved ones embarking upon the life-long journey of grief.

As I type the words “life-long” I recognize that this sounds hopeless and daunting. It makes it seem like grief will keep us crying and isolated for the rest of our lives. We never forget or cease to care about those we have lost, but grief changes over time.

Friday, as I sat in a pew watching my dear friend and her husband enter the church with their family, waves of memories began to flood my mind. I was transported back to our church in 2014. I only remember fragments of Isabelle’s funeral, but the raw emotions are impossible to forget. I remember how I felt when I sat in the front pew at our church, when Matt spoke, when the priest gave the final blessing, and when people lined up to offer their condolences. Witnessing my friend experience the same things was incredibly difficult, knowing exactly how much her heart was aching.

While completely heartbreaking doesn’t even begin to describe the entire situation, I could also see flickers of the Holy Spirt working amidst the pain. It was there in the occasional smile and happy memory shared. It was there in a room filled with loved ones. It was there when my friend and her husband looked at each other. The Holy Spirit was there working on the hearts of all those present, guiding and reminding all of us of our goal in life: heaven.

Although my own experience with grief has sometimes been cruel over the years, the Holy Spirit has always been hard at work. I have found that God has continued to use Isabelle’s short life to bring people closer to Him and remind us to always look forward towards heaven. There are certainly days when I catch myself being angry and jealous when I see a little girl who was likely born around the same time. I sometimes think about what life would be like if my boys had an older sister living in the house. But I also think about all of the prayers that Isabelle has showered on us the last five and a half years. I think about the times when I asked for her to pray for me during a challenging situation and suddenly felt at peace. I pray regularly that my own experience with grief may have provided someone with a glimmer of hope for the future.

So as I think about my dear friend and her husband, and the challenges that lay ahead, I also think about how the Holy Spirit has already been at work. What a beautiful support system they have in place! I have no doubt that their journey with grief will be filled with supportive loved ones and the strength of all the prayer surrounding them. Although it seems unbearable in the early days, it does get easier. The pain never completely goes away, but you learn to seek out God’s hand in all things and appreciate the gifts that He has given. You learn to cling to your faith and those who love you. You learn to move forward, a bit battered, but overall stronger because of your experience. Your grief will change over time, and so will you.