“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” ~Matthew 11:29
God gave me one year. Not to live but to reflect. I spent the year cycling between the past, present, and future. My thoughts, peppered with brilliant colors and dark spaces, seemed ruthless. Time was a sloth. The movement through the unknown disarmed me from the inside out.
God’s presence was a constant in my deepest struggles. He knew the silent cries I locked inside my soul. Whether I spoke them or not, He was aware of the torment. Time, a space between two moments, often breathed within and around me. My heart and mind didn’t always align with reality. There were days when it was hard to grasp the emptiness I felt in grief, but God’s presence was a comforting reassurance.
In a year, I lost an aunt, a daughter (in contact only), and myself.
On December 21, 2023, my eyes began to shed tears I hadn’t seen in a long time. I stood by my aunt’s side through her final few days. As she passed, sadness encompassed me under its umbrella. The death of a loved one begins a coaster of emotions and feelings. Yet, eventually, my tears fell upon a smile as I remembered the best of times. Why do we wait for death to let go of the worst memories? We waste time in unforgiveness while stewing in the past. I am now safe to remember without pain.
Complete loss in contact, a form of grief that arises from a severed relationship, brought a different kind of pain. I clung to desperation for months. For many years, I failed to release one tear; 2024 would be when they all fell. Waterfall after waterfall cascaded down as my heart reeled in pain. Fierce waves of anxiety strangled my lungs. Hope drifted between what I knew and felt, which clouded the space between me and God. Moving toward trust and surrender, the Lord carried me faithfully through.
Entering a new year, I realized the journey included a loss in myself. The previous two years both knocked me down and helped me. After taking jabs and uppercuts like a boxer in the ring, I left a beloved job. God provided the next opportunity, but a relocation would take that away. As I felt at peace and comfortable, the whirlwind of change came through like a cyclone.
Thrilled about the move, I remained frozen in what I had left behind. A missing loved one places grief in the ultimate cycle, a relentless loop that circles through every stage without closure. You experience denial, numbness, and shock one day. Then depression and anger the next, and back again. Reality cuts you like a knife as one memory after another plunges you further into darkness.
How does one ever get to acceptance, the final stage of grief?
Grief feels like the enemy when we are walking through it. It takes your breath away with one smell or sound. The settling of sadness is an added weight that you must bear alone. No person can ever carry it for you. How anyone does this without Jesus, I will never know.
Jesus, the yoke of all creation, invites us to tether to him. This world screams to stay in your lane, but God came in and said, “Step into mine.” His yoke is about carrying you through the storm. He comes alongside you and enables you to pull together, one step at a time, as you both have the load. He meets those who need him right where they are. His burden is light. God can manage the load. Let him. Seek solace in your faith, for it is a source of strength and comfort.
The journey was an ugly cryfest riddled with joy and God’s faithful blessings. Grief is another piece of the puzzle of life. We cannot ignore it; nothing we do will prevent us from meeting it. Grief is part of life. But through it, we will mature in faith and wisdom, and our journey will be transformed by the power of God’s love and grace.
I wish we never had to experience agony. I see Jesus on the cross and Mary below, clenching her fist to her heart; I know I’m not alone. Sorrow and grief have always been part of life, and God has always been ready and able.
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Authentic Truths
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