WATCHWORD:
1 3 “Lord, help!” they cried in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. 14 He led them from the darkness and deepest gloom; he snapped their chains. Psalm 107:13-14
16 the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light. And for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow, a light has shined.” Matthew 4:16
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4
Meditation:
Things Change
This morning I set aside the Meditation written for today. Things change, life moves on, sometimes in ways that are painful. For this morning, I feel led to share part of an essay I wrote in 2016, weeks after the death of my wife, Joanne.
A Grief Experienced — Many years ago, as a college dean, I sought to comfort an older student who had witnessed the accidental death of her 7- year-old son. As I stood in line at the funeral home, I wondered what could I possibly say to this grieving mother? In front of me was the Campus Pastor who did and said all the right things. The hug, the quite murmurs of sympathy, and then, to my surprise, he began to speak of the Young boy and what a blessing he had been in her life. He didn’t avoid the subject. The elephant was in the room but it didn’t matter! Her son was honored by the remembering conversation. The brief conversation did not ally her grief, but it mattered to her.
I have relived that lesson many times over. I have thought about her grief and, in fact, tried to imagine how that would feel. I know enough about human nature to know that I was feeling sympathy, but not empathy. One cannot slip into another’s loss and feel their pain, that sense of bewildering that seems to have filled the spot once held by the loved one. Old habits remain. The house now empty. The chair not filled. The conversation stilled. The special touches, missed. No, it is not possible to feel, or even to fully understand that kind of pain.
Grief. It’s just a word. Just a simple five-letter word that does not mean anything, not really, until it is not just a word, when it moves from being a noun to being a verb. Until it is a huge something that fills Your life, that sits squarely on Your chest like an invisible weight.
But now I know. At first, I could only imagine, then, there it was, the loss of my loved one. There before me, my own reason to experience grief. To feel it settle around me, a deep profound sense of emptiness, a loss, as if a large part of me that had always been there, was now gone.
At my wife’s memorial service, my daughter paraphrased a statement written in 1910 by Henry Scott Holland at the funeral of King Edward VII. It was if my love was speaking directly to me…saying “death is nothing…I have only slipped into the next room. What we had, we still have. Nothing has changed. I am waiting for You…just around the corner…(in the next room).” That was reassuring. We had, throughout our married life, a close relationship with God, one that reassured us that God was in charge, that He loved us, and that one day we would be together with Him (in the next room?).
Oh, yes, I know grief. I realize that I have been given a very special gift that has equipped me in ways that will become clearer as I continue. I think about that Young mother and how I might now respond to her grief. Not with sympathy, but with empathy. With the understanding that comes with experience, hard experience, where grief is the byproduct.
I have things to do. A family to love and reach out to. Others that might cross my path that will receive the benefit of the gift that I now cherish. Grief experienced is a gift to hold dear.
May You enjoy all that life will bring each day, and the strength to understand that some of the gifts come with pain or loss. That is part of the gift. Use it wisely and with gratitude. God’s gifts always have meaning.” Amen.
We worship God who is in charge of our lives. God who loves us dearly. God that leads us through the present darkness. God who never leaves our side.
Prayer:
Dear Heavenly Father, in the pain of loss we find ourselves crying out to You. You calm our souls even as we turn our hearts to You. May we long for You as the deer longs for streams of water. May we thirst for You even as tears flow. We know You are our refuge and strength and that You always stand ready to help in times just like this. We will choose not to fear when earthquakes come and the mountains crumble. Let the oceans roar and foam and the mountains tremble as the waters surge! And as the world chaotically moves around us, we will rest in You. We will choose to be still and know that You are God.
We are empty, but You are our rescuer, our cup-filler. You are the joy of our hearts, our hope. We come to You asking for more—more of Your power, more of Your strength, more of Your renewal. Take our heartaches and pains. Take our grief and our exhaustion. Take it and renew us. We off all these prayers in the Name of Jesus the Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen
