In talking with grieving friends this week, I see so many variations in the way people respond to the messy mutant forms of missing. Some cry uncontrollably, others cannot shed a tear. Some isolate in a self-made cave, others feel compelled to remain regularly in touch. Some slow their pace to sense sorrow and joy intermixing, others avoid feeling at all costs, staying upbeat and crazy busy. Some quiet themselves and cry inside, others express emotions through talking or writing, music or art, restorative reading or being nurtured by nature. How we grief is as unique as our handwriting and our tone of voice, as our body type and our hair color, our likes and our dislikes. With our one-of-a-kind wiring, God gives us each permission to grieve in our own time, in our own way.
When we are gentle with ourselves, we shed comparison. When we listen to our inner inklings, we find restorative ways to ground ourselves in God. When we are courageous, we entrust our loved ones into our Re-creator’s care, allowing the LORD plenty of space to work.
Our God is big enough, creative enough, attentive enough
…to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve–
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor (Isaiah 61:2b-3, NIV).
In our cave of grieve or out in nature, crying tears or playing music, feeling deep feelings or remaining busy, if we notice the LORD’s ever-presence and diligently ground ourselves in God, then we will become a sturdy oak displaying our LORD’s saving splendor.
