It's okay to grieve

    I had a conversation with a dear friend this week that started much like most of my typical conversations with family or friends. It began with "catching up" and asking how each of us were doing. And when I gave the update on how I was, it began the same way as it always has these last many months...with a heavy sigh and then a list of struggles, anxieties, worries, hardships, and disappointments. Then quickly after my "venting," I immediately, like always, felt convicted and began to list the many, many blessings that God has showered on me and our family these last difficult months as well.     

    My friend listened graciously and then asked me what I was hoping to receive from her. Was I looking for someone to remind me of God's good plan for my life and remind me of what I knew to be true about His Word? Or was I looking for someone to join me in my despair and agree with me that, yes, it has been very hard? I told her that I wasn't sure what I wanted from her. She paused...and then I went off again about how I hated being a grumbler and complainer and that God has been so kind and merciful and that I shouldn't be complaining and what is wrong with me and so on...until she politely interrupted me. 

    She asked me to listen for a few minutes and began telling me that my issue wasn't that I was complaining about where God has us right now OR that I'm doing a good job at fighting for joy and being thankful in all circumstances. 

    The issue was that I wasn't allowing myself to really grieve the hardships and disappointments of these last several months...and potentially even the last couple of years. 

    I have been so busy trying to figure out where God is leading and what He's doing and what I should be learning while also trying to focus on the things that I can be grateful for in the midst of this difficult season, that I haven't given myself the permission and freedom to grieve all the material things, hopes, longings, dreams, and expectations that I have lost. 

    I may have briefly grieved a few things, but I've never laid out all the pain and disappointments and unmet expectations at the feet of my Savior. I've kept much of it bottled up and focused instead on how to make lemonade with the lemons that God has provided instead of crying out to God about how hard it has been to only have lemons for what seems like several years.

    And because I haven't dealt fully with the hurt, any time I'm reminded about what has been lost, I get angry and complain and then quickly re-focus on God's blessings and stuff the hurt. 

    I can see clearly now that it's been a destructive cycle in my life. My emotions have been unsteady and have simply been reactions to either the good or bad circumstances. I never know how I'm going to react...it depends on the circumstances of the day. I've haven't been as authentic as I usually am with those around me. And I've told many, many people that I'm doing fine. 

    The truth is...these last several years have been the hardest of my life. 

    Moving from Minnesota to Iowa was very, very difficult for our kids and for Brad and me.  Living 4 hours farther from family and lifelong friends was much, much harder than we ever imagined. Dealing with Brad's brush with death and lengthy hospital stay and on-going oncology appointments has given me PTSD type symptoms that I've been trying to manage on my own. Resigning from and leaving a church we loved still hurts almost daily. Interviewing and candidating at 6+ churches in the last 14 months has been emotionally grueling. Selling our house in a great neighborhood and then having a ministry opportunity fall through broke my heart. Shepherding my kids through church interviews, moving, changes in schooling, and their many questions has taken so much of my energy. Renting a smaller house while watching my husband hang drywall instead of using the gifts God has given him to pastor a church is heartbreaking.

    It has been and has continued to be very, very hard. 

     So what am I to do? I am usually a very positive person. My faith is strong. But one of my faults is that I'm so eager to help people that I sometimes move too quickly past their grief to get to the healing on the other side. I don't always sit long enough with them in their pain, and I too quickly point them to God's Word when they need someone just to be by their side. 

    So I need to be quiet. I need to name and write out my hurts and disappointments. I need to not rush to figure out what God is doing. I need to cry out to God like the Israelites did in Exodus 2.

"During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew."

     I also need to let myself feel grief.  I know now that I can cry out to God in a way that isn't in anger towards him. I can be honest with what I'm feeling, just like David was in Psalm 6:

 "O Lord, rebuke me not in your anger,
    nor discipline me in your wrath. 

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
    heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.

My soul also is greatly troubled.
    But you, O Lord—how long?

Turn, O Lord, deliver my life;
    save me for the sake of your steadfast love.

For in death there is no remembrance of you;
    in Sheol who will give you praise?

I am weary with my moaning;
    every night I flood my bed with tears;
    I drench my couch with my weeping.

My eye wastes away because of grief;
    it grows weak because of all my foes.

Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
    for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.

The Lord has heard my plea;
    the Lord accepts my prayer.

All my enemies shall be ashamed and greatly troubled;
    they shall turn back and be put to shame in a moment."

  So today, I will grieve, really grieve, and lay all my fears, anxieties, questions, hopes, and earthly possessions at the feet of the cross. And once I cry all my tears, whenever that will be, I hope to land softly in the bed of God's many comforting promises like...

"And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." 

- Philippians 1:6

and

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." 

- Romans 8:28