I like to see the glass at least half full. Better yet, seventy-five percent. I want to write about hope and choices and new perspectives. Got a problem? Look at it as an opportunity? Hurt by a relationship? Consider the situation from the other’s perspective and practice courageous communication. I believe there’s always something you can do to make the hard place better. But my “can do” perspective is suffering from a series of recent losses that flipped my emotional bank account into deficit spending. Trying to see the silver lining in my current situation seems disingenuous or downright delusional. All this left me asking, “What should I do with grief?”
After several family setbacks, my mother-in-law’s passing in August, and my brother’s brief and devasting illness that led to his passing in October, I’ve found myself stuck in grief. This is hard for me to reconcile. How can I hold on to faith while I acknowledge the darkness that threatens to consume hope? I’m not exactly sure of the way forward, but this I am sure of, Living Faith*Fully doesn’t deny grief and it doesn’t demand sunny platitudes.
A Time to Wait and A Time to Act
I’ve found myself on several days staring at the wall, unable to bring myself to do anything. Too many tasks get started only to overwhelm me and send me back to numb reflection. “What’s wrong with me?” I wonder. But no amount of cajoling lifts my vision beyond that spot on the wall.
“Do something,” I told myself on one of these days. When that didn’t work, I went full “Elementary Teacher”. Pulling up my best teacher voice I spoke audibly, “Stand up.” I was glad to see myself comply. “Get dressed.” More compliance. “Go for a walk.” I was willing to go, but where? A nearby. nature trail came to mind.
Usually for me, showing up is more than half the battle. But arriving at my destination still felt like plodding, one foot in front of the other. I tried to pray as I walked along. Express my feelings? They were numb. Ask God for something? Why bother? Praise God. I do still believe that he is good. A few simple words, then silence. “Lord,” I said, “where in the Bible might there be something to break through this dullness? What model could I follow to find my way?”
I’m not sure which came to my mind first, the view of the path before me, or the title of a familiar Bible story. The Road to Emmaus.
A Time for Invitation
The story from Luke chapter 24 tells the experience of Cleopas and his friend, grieving followers of Jesus, a couple of days after the crucifixion. They had left the other disciples behind as they walked along the road to Emmaus. When they encountered a fellow traveler, he asked them what was on their minds and they poured out the despair and loss of the previous days. They were so blinded by grief that they failed to recognize the risen Jesus walking with them. Like them, I had set out on my journey carrying the burden of grief.
Cleopas and his friend turned toward their destination. “As they approached the village…Jesus acted as if he were going further. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us…” (Luke 24: 28-29) This invitation opens the door for Jesus to minister to their needs and to make himself known. Like them, I decided to invite Jesus to stay with me in grief.
Making my way along the graveled path sprinkled with the first fruits of Autumn’s golden leaves, my prayer became spontaneous. “Lord, you were gentle with your followers on the road as they carried the burden of grief. Will you make it clear to me that you are here with me. I don’t have to have answers to every question. But I need to know that I am not alone.”
Faith, lived to the full chooses to take simple steps of task, rest,
sorrow, invitation and trust.
A Time for Simple Steps
As I kept going, the familiar steps of an ordinary walk in the woods became holy ground. God isn’t scolding me for my sadness or demanding a stiff upper lip. The presence of Jesus, not the absence of grief heals and restores.
This assurance waxes and wanes. There are times of encouragement, and times of deep loss. But the lessons I take away from my “walk along the road” remind me to embrace the ordinary routines of my life and to invite Jesus to be present in whatever form those routines take.
Faith, lived to the full chooses to take simple steps of task, rest, sorrow, invitation and trust. Some days are better than others. But no day lacks the reality that God is with me.