Skip to main content

The Murky Waters of Grief

"Grief is real, and is suffered. 
You're not crazy if you feel it; 
it means you loved someone, deeply."

I feel the murky waters of grief pouring over me. I feel sometimes like I'm going crazy. Waves of overwhelming muddy water wash over me. I feel like crocodiles of confusion, sadness, and mental stress are snapping their teeth at me. It's such hard work to keep my head above the stinking brown water of despair. I can't cope with the pull of the depths of this water. Slowly, I'm feeling pulled under by the water of gloom.

Yes, I've been here before. I've read and heard and even experienced the stages of grief in the deaths of my mother at 13, the sudden death of 5 nieces and nephews in my 30s, my step mom and my dear grandma in my 40s. Yes, I know them and they are very true and real:
1. SHOCK & DENIAL
2. PAIN & GUILT
3. ANGER & BARGAINING
4. "DEPRESSION", REFLECTION, LONELINESS 
5. THE UPWARD TURN 
6. RECONSTRUCTION & WORKING THROUGH
7. ACCEPTANCE & HOPE

But nearly six months ago, I lost my sister to cancer. I love all my sisters, but she was the closest to me: in age, in stage of life, in closeness. I reflect to the time we survived our mom's death together. We leaned on each other to figure out life. She was with me during our transition back to America, and was my biggest cheerleader. She didn't always understand, but she was always there. She did so many things behind the scenes to help me feel her love and acceptance. She always believed in me. Many mornings, we could spend chatting on the phone.  I not only lost my sister. I realize now, I lost my best friend. And I wasn't prepared for the murky waters of mental distress, the hours of weeping, the feeling of my spirit bent over and bleeding out all my life blood.

I am realizing, I am still called to God's altar of worship. It isn't the worship I would choose. We think of worship as rejoicing, praise, laughing, smiling, and enjoyment. And that is true when our altar of worship is the worship of rejoicing. But today, I am realizing I am experiencing the altar of lamentation.  This worship is sorrow, weeping, confusion, mourning, and anguish.  A very different style of worship, but it is a necessary worship in my life. It's not the altar I would ever choose,  but even at this altar, I need to remember: God is completely sovereign, God is infinite in wisdom, and God is perfect in love, and He comes to us intimately in my worship.

"Then come, let us go up to Bethel, where I will build an altar to God, who answered me in the day of my distress and who has been with me wherever I have gone.” Gen. 35:3

It is only at this altar that I can truly find a God of Comfort. Bending over this altar, I can grieve all the loss and disappointment. I bend and weep over the pain, the suffering, the bitterness, and loss that I feel. He can begin comforting me when He finds me at my altar. He was a "man of sorrows" and understands.

I realize again these murky waters will not drown me.  He is waiting on the river bank with open arms, ready to embrace me in my grief and walk with me as I wipe off the dirty water and raise my hands of worship towards Him. He will take me in all the dirtiness, and hold me tight.
(inspired by a chapter I read by in book by Val Yoder)

Comments

Jolynn said…
I wish I could bear some of it for you, Laura. Thank you for writing - it helps the rest of us understand. Jolynn Schmucker
Thank you Jolynn

Popular posts from this blog

Kidnapped Ponderings One Year Later

Austin and Cherilyn on their wedding day Who would have imagined just one year ago that our dear son would be married to the beautiful girl he was in gangster camp with for 62 days? And not only that, but expecting their first child to be born in June? Who would have thought one year ago that we would be here today struggling with the whole story of our lives? I want to share some of my thoughts that I wrote during that time just to try to process the whole thing. It's been big and bittersweet, this kidnapping journey, a year later. (sorry to all who read this one year ago)   October 31, 2021 When has two weeks ever been so long? “You son is among a group of seventeen who were kidnapped,” came the words over the phone on Saturday morning, October 16. Kidnapped? We had just received word that he had landed in Haiti the evening before. Planning to spend 4-6 months down there helping the victims of the recent earthquake, our son planned to spend the weekend at the Christian Aid Mini

Do I Feel Loved or What?

More times than not, my December 17th birthday nearly gets forgotten with all the busy Christmas festivities that try to crowd it out. But a few times in my life I have been totally surprised and this year was one of them. We three American ladies got together on Friday for our annual "candy and cookie" day when we make American goodies to give as gifts to our friends here. I thought it a bit strange that everyone was wishing me a cheerful "Happy Birthday" first thing in the morning when I arrived at my friends house. What are they thinking? It's a day early! Oh, well, I thought, they just don't want to forget this year. But I was secretly thinking about the night out that my husband had planned for the two of us the follwing evening. (At a romantic Italian restaurant in Warsaw, at that!) And I thought about the brunch that my oldest son promised to make on my special day. (Imagine that he is old enough to give me such a gift!) The morning passed and at time

Thanksgiving, Days Between, and Release

 And as the days crawled by...maybe by the wedding...maybe by Thanksgiving...those days and weeks were pure torture for my soul. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't pray, I wasn't functioning well emotionally. Yet we went through the motions. I along with all the mother's of the boys in captivity had the same thoughts in our minds...if the captives had their way we knew the women and children would be released first...we knew our son may be the last one remaining in the camp. And then what?...would my son be the one that would die for the sake of the rest of this group. So many tears were shed...yet, we felt a strange peace. I share with you the letter I wrote after their release.                                                                                                                                                       1/6/2021                And now sixty days had passed….our lives had set into a new routine. Every morning, those in captivity were the first t