Yea, 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
Death casts a shadow wide and long.
The impact of suffering on those who've borne witness is unexpectedly immense. There really are no words for this kind of heart-wrenching experience. We are impacted to the core, the very center of our beings, in ways that are difficult to comprehend.
When you've loved well, you grieve deep. When you've opened your heart and been all kinds of vulnerable, loss is multi-faceted and raw. We are left fragile, tender to the touch. Hard grief costs, it doesn't come cheap, and there is a lingering price-tag on body, mind, and soul.
The shadow is death's calling card and it lingers unbidden for those who remain earthbound, those who have suffered loss but have not yet been freed to the bliss of eternal life with Father, Son, and Spirit.
We navigate the fierce winds of grief's storm as He faithfully cradles us close. We venture forward, one day, sometimes one hour, at a time. Each tearful sigh and deep breath become a lavish grace.
And the promised new-every-morning mercies whisper a richly blessed assurance that there is hope, a healing of sorts. For we can slowly emerge from being torn and tattered into one who grows into a wounded healer. A soul who's been there done that, whose heart beats kinder, more empathetic, and far wiser than humanly possible.
We don't grieve like those who do not experience the promises and comfort of Jesus Himself. Yet, we will never be the same. And that could end up being a very good thing.
Linda
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photo by Tirza van Dijk on Unsplash
I think it's important for everyone to read it. Those of us who have walked through grief know we all grieve differently, but within the pain is deep. Sending love your way.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking everyone heaves a sigh of relief when they realize that people grieve differently. The pressure is off to do 'it' a certain way in a certain time frame. I'm grateful.
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Even when we think we are through grieving, back it comes at unexpected moments, places and times. When the waves crash over us, let us run to the Father for His comfort, peace and reassurance. Let us grieve well.
ReplyDeleteBlessings, Linda!
Beautifully said, Martha!
DeleteThose waves seem to come at the weirdest times, don't they. Caught unaware, it's easy to get pulled down deep by the impact of loss.
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Thank you, Nancy!
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DeleteOh, yes, Linda, they do. I've had some of those happen in dreams that make me wake up to a new layer of reality and acceptance. We all have to hang in there with faith and trust.
DeleteYes, yes, the dreams, Martha. I think I know exactly what you're saying ...
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Those words..............When you've loved well, you grieve deep. When you've opened your heart and been all kinds of vulnerable, loss is multi-faceted and raw. We are left fragile, tender to the touch. Hard grief costs, it doesn't come cheap, and there is a lingering price-tag on body, mind, and soul. Oh dearest Linda. So very true, so very true!!! Hugs and blessings, Cindy
ReplyDeleteLove those hugs, girl ...
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How beautifully you've expounded on such a grim reality, Linda. And I love the way you included the benefits of holy grieving--promises to hold onto when the pain pulls us downward.
ReplyDeleteYou're right, it is grim, Nancy. I've found that staying in conversation with others is helpful and encouraging. It's always good when we experience being heard and validated.
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Linda, you have described the reality that we all face when someone we love fiercely passes away. My beloved Mother left for her eternal home fifteen years ago and there is never a day that I don’t think about her and miss her terribly. Hugs, my friend!
ReplyDeleteI can imagine, yes, 15 years later, Pam.
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"For we can slowly emerge from being torn and tattered into one who grows into a wounded healer." A beautiful prose that brings healing and hope for the grieving.
ReplyDeleteAnd the writing of it is part of the process, isn't it ...
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lots of wisdom here for all of us. I heard once that grief was like a roller coaster or that is slowly unfolds each layer and we all this takes times for each individual to experience.
ReplyDeleteYou're right, Jean ... there's so many ways to describe the journey of loss and grief. I find that encouraging!
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"And the promised new-every-morning mercies whisper a richly blessed assurance that there is hope, a healing of sorts. For we can slowly emerge from being torn and tattered into one who grows into a wounded healer." Oh yes, Linda. Such hope in those promised new-every-morning mercies and in God's healing grace to bring beauty out of ashes and use our pain for a purpose. Thank you for this encouragement. Love and blessings of strength and peace for every moment!
ReplyDeleteNew every morning. A fresh invitation for each day. Thank You, Lord!
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Until you have walked the path, you do not understand. So many of us have and are walking the well worn road. He is always by your side as you take the next step.
ReplyDeleteBlessings, My Friend
'The well worn road.' It's always good to know that although every story is unique, we are not alone. Thanks, Lulu!
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You’ve expressed this so beautifully, Linda. I'm so thankful for your words. I never would have guessed how exhausting grief would be, or how losing my parents would change how I look at practically everything. Praying for you this morning ...
ReplyDeleteYou're up early, girl! Thanks for starting the day with me. Yes, the exhaustion seems to come and go at will. I'm trying to clean up my eating habits and sleeping routines. Actually cutting way back being online hasn't hurt. All while trying not to over-analyze. Simply acknowledge and accept that this is the way it is right now.
DeleteIt means so much that you understand. Sometimes this feels like a lonely road.
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Beautifully stated. Sending you a big hug, Linda. Praying for grace in the grieving journey.
ReplyDeleteHugs back, Lisa!
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You can imagine that this post really speaks to me, Linda. I'll feature it this Friday for the Grace & Truth linkup at my blog.
ReplyDeleteAnd this line? It's huge! "Yet, we will never be the same. And that could end up being a very good thing." Indeed. Love you, my friend!
Lisa, thanks for sending your friends and followers over this way. So many of us are finding our way through the deepest shadows ever. It's such a relief to know we're not alone ... and that God Himself is our guide forward.
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Thank you for this blogpost. Nn the Netherlands we say: mourning is raw (rouw is rauw) These words are exactly the same in sound in Dutch. I got therapy to learn how to grieve after my mother's died. That helped me. I found it hard to mourn because I didn't feel grieving. I was actually angry at her. Now, after 5 years, good memories come back.
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing on this topic
Aritha, I'm so glad you're here. You've captured some of those word that seem scary but are very real ... Raw. Grieve. Mourn. Angry. Good memories.
DeleteThanks for the nudge forward toward hope that more than a few of us need to hear.
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