Grief is a path that every one of us has to walk along at some point in our lives, for most of us more than once, and for some, many times. Or maybe grief is just another section of our life path, along which we start walking the first time a loved one dies. Perhaps as you are reading this, you are already walking along that path. I have written this blog for you. Even while I was drafting this blog last Sunday, I heard the news of three precious ladies whose time had come to leave this world during the previous 24 hours. They are now in their eternal home but those who remain weep now as they start the journey on their path of grief.
I first stepped foot on this path three years ago when Dad died. But at that time, Mum’s dementia was progressing rapidly; she wasn’t coping on her own at home. My sister and I were trying to care for our Mum from a distance. But living far away from her and the fact that we had no help, advice or support from any sector made it virtually impossible and very harrowing. There was no space in my life for grief so it would have to wait.
Mum fell asleep and woke up in her eternal home in June this year. It was very peaceful and all the inevitable arrangements went smoothly. Nevertheless, grief can make you feel very alone, especially after the funeral is done and everyone around you is getting on with their lives as before. But you are still grieving. It can feel like everyone has forgotten your grief, and perhaps some of them have. Furthermore, everyone’s grief path is different and unique. Although my sister has lost the same people as me, she is experiencing and processing her grief differently.
The weight of grief is heavy. But it’s not a weight that I feel will break me; it’s a weight that is making me stronger.
I wasn’t planning to go to Capel y Bont last Sunday, but we decided to go anyway. As soon as we walked in, I knew why I needed to be there. On the table in front of me was a mindful colouring sheet with the words, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted”. Matthew 5:4. The minister, Owen, explained that Jesus wants us mourn and to experience the sadness of grief because it is the only way to deal with loss and the only way to true joy. I was listening, and colouring, and crying (a lot). Jesus had given me permission to grieve.
My sister and I went home for the final time yesterday and left our keys there in the house. Home, with all the memories, both good and bad, even memories that I didn’t know I had kept. Everything that shaped me into the 21 year old woman who left Yorkshire to start a new chapter in Wales all those years ago. Leaving for the last time was so hard, so final. It was a harsh, sharp reminder that I am now, very much, in a new chapter, an entire new section of my story.
The weight of grief is heavy, but it has brought me closer to Jesus than I have ever known in the past 40 years as a Christian. Today, I truly know what those words, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” mean. When reading these words before, I assumed that the comfort would come from those around me who love me. I’m not denying that my family and friends have been lovely, they have. But they can’t enter my grief; they can’t walk my path. But I know closer than ever the One who truly can enter my grief and is right beside me, with His everlasting arms around me because Jesus was, “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” I now truly know that it’s ok to be broken-hearted, because “the Lord is close to the broken-hearted”. And He is. Constantly.
I went for a walk this morning before church. A rainbow appeared in the sky. As I was considering this rainbow, I observed that, where there was blue sky, that section of the rainbow was invisible. But set against the darkest clouds, the rainbow was the brightest and the colours most vivid. So, unless we go through times of mourning and grief, we will miss out on something very bright and beautiful.
It seems a strange thing to say that I am ‘blessed’ in mourning. But the Amplified Version explains it precisely: Blessed and enviably happy [with a happiness produced by the experience of God’s favour and especially conditioned by the revelation of His matchless grace] are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted!” It’s not a happiness that has me rolling around laughing, but a deep joy that transcends reason. And o, the revelation right to the core of my being, of His matchless grace.
I said at the beginning that I have written this blog for you. And here is the reason: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4. I am truly blessed as I walk along this path of grief. I cannot walk your path with you, but it is my prayer that, with the comfort I have received, I can bring some comfort to you as you read this.
Sharon x
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