Grief & Guilt

Sixteen years old, feeling betrayed, alone, and scared, a young woman terminated her pregnancy and gave birth to guilt. The society that condoned and even encouraged her abortion could not understand her guilt. But not only was her spirit torn by guilt, it was also raw with a pain she could not understand. Slowly the pain took on a more defined form. The mass of tissue within her had been far more. It was the youngest of lives – but it was life. A baby girl? A baby boy? Brown hair? Blue eyes? Future ball player? TV commentator? The questions haunted and the young woman’s arms ached to hold the child whose life was abruptly shortened, while the grief and the guilt bound themselves together within her spirit. My heart has compassion for this young woman. Her story may be fictitious, and yet it is very real. And I also realize that it doesn’t take an abortion for the grief we experience to be distorted, scarred, and perpetuated by guilt. An accident. Angry words. Wrong choices. Strained relationships and unfinished business. If only... Whatever the reason for the guilt, the results are the same. Loss has many faces, but the loss and grief we are focusing on, occurs when a loved one, or one we wanted to love, is separated from us through death or the severing or distancing of a relationship. Grieving usually follows a somewhat predictable process that leads to acceptance and adjustment. Guilt, however, complicates the whole process. We can get stuck in denial of our loss, or in depression or anger. Our grief itself may be denied, or our “right” to it, or our feelings may be proverbially “stuffed.” The guilt infringes on our personal growth and on our relationships with others. Guilt is never a place God wants us to stay. We could distinguish between false guilt and true guilt, but both are just as destructive, and both have the same answer – an answer that is found in the miracle of God’s grace. It is a grace that is able to declare us totally pure and righteous before our holy and loving God. Guilt is courageously addressed as we come honestly before God, confess the reasons for our guilt, and in total dependence on the finished work of His Son and the forgiveness He offers, claim that forgiveness as our own. If we are dealing with a false guilt, I believe God will reveal that to us at some point. Facing our guilt with a godly friend or biblical counselor, even a lay counselor, will greatly affirm the work God is doing in our lives. Loss is a part of life, but the necessary grieving that follows need not be complicated by guilt. God is “big enough” for all of life’s losses, and He longs to embrace us as we journey through each one, and to free us from the bondage guilt can impose. – Bev (Related Bible reading: Psalm 51)

This Little Light of Mine

In the spaciousness of the large conference room where moments before we had eaten dinner together, each mom walked to the front of the room and lit the candle she was carrying. And then, with the emotion borne of loss and remembrance, each mom spoke into the microphone the name of her child who had died. From babies who died in the womb to young adults whose lives were shortened by tragedy, each name gave reality to the child who would never be forgotten, and whose abbreviated life had altered dreams and hopes and expectations, and was impacting still in incredible ways. For some the impact was one of intense grief, a grief that was still fresh. For others, the impact had altered, but the impact was giving impetus too to passionately making life different, and prayerfully better, for someone else. Each mom spoke, and each mom remembered, and each mom wanted to honor the memory of her child. As the candles were lit, and after each mom spoke, a circle of lighted candles began to wreath the room. Grief was being shared; lives were being remembered; comfort was being extended. And in the darkened room illumined only by the lit candles, we began to sing, “This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine... Won't let Satan blow it out. I'm gonna let it shine.... let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Let it shine til Jesus comes. I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine til Jesus comes. I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.” It was a song for children, a song for our children, and I had never heard it sung so beautifully or with such meaning. The profundity of meaning touched some place deep within me. “This light” represented my child. “This light” captured the eternality of my child, an eternality I am still able to embrace here on earth, and an eternality I will embrace forever in heaven. My child may have died physically, but she is very much alive within my own life, very much alive as her memory continually speaks to me in thousands of ways, and very much alive as I love and as I give compassion. It is an eternality I will not allow Satan to snuff out, but rather an eternality that has become a light to still others who walk the journey of grief. I long for that light to shine, brilliantly and profusely, until Jesus comes to reunite me with my child. And within that reunion, I will be even more aware than I am today, that the only reason my light could shine, was because of Jesus. He is the one who brings light into the darkness of grief, and He is the one who allows the brevity of life to find purpose and meaning, even as His arms of compassion bring comfort. – Bev (Related Bible reading: 2 Corinthians 5:1-9)

Happy Birthday Jesus!!

Christmas Thoughts for Moms Who Grieve........... C ... C is for the Christ, the very essence and expression of God. At Christmas, He Came to make God’s plan of redemption and hope, possible. H ... H is for Hope, the Heartbeat of the believer that pulsates with longing for all of God’s gifts – the ones that encourage and strengthen here on earth and the reality of life eternal in His unchanging presence. R ... R is for Resources, the ones that come from God, the ones He gives sometimes even without our asking – Resources that allow us to take one step at a time, one day at a time, embracing our tears while He holds us in His arms. I ... I is for Inward or Inside, the place God most wants to meet us in the reality of our need; my anguish, sorrow, and pain, softened because Jesus came at Christmas. S ... S is for Salvation, the reason for Christmas, a baby’s arms being stretched out on a cross simply because He loves me and He loves the child who died before me. T... T is for Time, my todays, my yesterdays, my tomorrows – Jesus was born at just the right Time – and for Jesus and for me, God holds all of Time in His hands. M ... M is for Manger, the earthly birthing place for Jesus, but M is also for Mercy. Mercy too was born in the Manger, God withholding judgment because of the baby, and in its stead an overflow of grace for every tear and every need. A ... A is for Agony, the Agony of the cross that defeated the Agony of death, and it all started because God cares and understands, and He wanted to give His child so both me and my child would have hope. S ... S is for Season, the Season of Christmas shadowed by the Season of my grief. Neither Season ends – I’ve learned that about grief – but the Season of Christmas is eternal because God is eternal and the Season of Christmas is the reminder of all of God’s gifts that let me mourn and still walk, grieve and yet become, be comforted and in turn, give comfort to still others. Happy Birthday, Jesus!! And Thank You! from the depths of my heart.................... – Bev

No Words

Mary was a ponder-er. Gazing at her own child in the manger as the fear of the shepherds became a compulsive praise, she kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. She must have pondered when Simeon’s words in the temple brought both affirmation and foreboding prophecy, and when the angel uprooted the natal family to find safety in Egypt. Years later, frantic with parental worry, questioning her son about His choices, hearing His straightforward response that He needed to do the work of His Father, again she pondered as she stored all these things in her heart. ... Shamed before condemning onlookers, the woman’s adultery became a means for finding reason to accuse the One who claimed to be the Son of God. The woman though found compassion with Jesus and her self-righteous accusers dismissed themselves. When Jesus spoke to her without condemnation, her words to Him were few. ... It was still another woman who knelt behind him [Jesus] at his feet, weeping. Her tears fell on his feet, and she wiped them off with her hair. Then she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them. Scripture doesn’t record any words spoken by this one who exchanged her guilt for forgiveness, but her actions are profound and they revealed her heart. ... Earlier, Jesus gave life to the only son of a widow. Interrupting both a funeral procession and the overwhelming grief of a mother, Jesus told her son to sit up and as he did, he began to speak. But again, Scripture records no words from the lips of one whose tears were dried. ... Neither do you hear the words of Jairus or his wife when their own young daughter is given life at the command of Jesus. Faith replaced their fear, and overwhelming joy and amazement replaced their weeping, but their emotions found no words. There are many in Scripture who verbally do respond to God’s work in their lives, but there are many too who simply ponder as Mary often did. There are those whose guilt or tragedy finds no words to express their emotions or thinking. And even in God-given provision, their lips are still quiet as they ponder the presence and purpose of God. Jesus met many, as He does us today, with gentleness and compassion, patience and understanding, and an acceptance of their situation although He had still more for them. He met them even in their silence because He knew their hearts. How differently He responded than we sometimes do when we meet the silence of a heart. God also tells us that our hearts will find a song; they will find the words that express not only their need, but also God meeting them within their need. I have heard many moms do that. In the raw, abrasive freshness of the death of their child, their tears spill out the dark, numbing silence of their hearts, and their prayers groan with heaviness, and no words. Jesus meets them as He did those in Scripture, and in time, they find their song and their words. Personally, I have experienced both guilt and tragedy, just as many of you have. God has met me, over and over and over, just as He has met you. And I have found my song, my words, my once silent words, and they express what was the quietness of my darkness, and the Jesus who met me there. Only very recently, I found the words that succinctly speak of my own heart as I remember my daughter, Tonia, and the Jesus who met us both ..................................... Child of my womb, my heart, my love. Birthed on earth, tiniest of rosebuds. Cradled by Jesus, petals unfolding Blossoming perfection, eternally alive. As I embrace my tears, She embraces her joy. – Bev (Related Bible reading: Luke 2:16-19; Luke 2:51; John 8:1-11; Luke 7:36-50; Luke 7:11-17; Luke 8:49-56)

Waves of Grief

GSnow’s post on reddit.com went viral as his words gave expression to the grief of thousands who read it. You can find all of his post online if you google, “An old man explains grief,” but I want to share just part of the wisdom his life, and death, experiences have taught him. He parallels grief to surviving a shipwreck, and part of his post says, In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find that the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breath, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything… and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. I have shared GSnow’s words with many who are walking their own journey of grief, and they are quick to validate his insights. GSnow acknowledges that the waves of grief come farther apart and lessen in intensity as the grief journey passes through time and healing – a healing that still loves, still remembers, and still holds a tug to re-unite. As believers, holding tightly to the God who loves and comforts, and gives His grace, or being carried close to the Father heart that knows and feels our tears and the pain of our loss, the sense of surviving a shipwreck is still very real. And for the believer, the triggers still come, for months, for years, for decades, for a lifetime. Initially, in those early months and years, we may expect the triggers. We still see the empty chair, sleep in a bed where one pillow grows cold, watch a child’s friends go to the next grade level, hit the winning home run, or we smell the scents that almost seemed to define our loved one. Grief slows life down to a crawl, but we do begin to walk, and then we do begin to make changes. Although we will forever carry our loved one in our heart as our loved one lives and delights within all the perfections of Heaven, our earthly lives transition and we express those lives in new and different ways. And the waves can still descend, and they can descend with an unexpected heaviness, a deep heaving sorrow that longs to hold our loved one close. I can enter the joy of a young and beautiful bride, expectantly walking the aisle on her wedding day, eager to exchange the arm of her Dad for all a young man offers her as they begin their lives as one. The tears that come though are tears of sadness, longing for the presence of our own daughter who will never walk a wedding aisle with her Dad, or dance the father-daughter dance with him, warmly wrapped in the memories of childhood. The wave was triggered, and it crashes, soaking me to the depths of my sometimes still fragile heart. And it is then I find my comfort where I have learned to find my comfort – in the constant, unchanging presence of my Father-God. Honest with my emotions, my memories, my thoughts, my longings, but letting Him carry me close to His heart one more time. And, it will probably happen again, but my God is real, and my God cares, and when the wave comes again, whenever that may be, my God will still be real, and close, and comforting. – Bev (Related Bible reading: Isaiah 40:11; Isaiah 41:13; Isaiah 46:4; Psalm 23:4; 2 Corinthians 1:2-4)

He Knows Me

Psalm 13:1-2 “How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” Have you ever felt like the Lord has forgotten you? Do you long for Him to see you, to understand your situation, that you are at the end of your rope and barely hanging on with a thread? Sometimes it feels like the world is crashing down around us and we often wonder, where are You Lord? Do You see me? Do You know me? Have You forgotten about me and this deep valley I am in? Do You not see my tears? Am I not Your child? How long must I suffer? Are You hearing my prayers? He knows you. Psalm 139:2-4 says, “You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely.” He knows our every move, He knows when I rise and when I lay down, He knows my thoughts and is familiar with all my ways. He knows what I will say before it even comes out of my mouth. If He knows us this well, why does He allow us to feel disconnected with Him? I saw a poster with a woman and she was sitting on top of all her beautiful luggage in the middle of the desert and the caption read, “Where did you go, Lord?” He has never gone anywhere. He promises us that if we shall call upon Him in our time of trouble, He will answer us and that He will deliver us. He is near to all who call upon Him…He also will hear their cry and save them.” (Psalm 145:18-19) He promised that He would never leave us or forsake us, but we often pack our bags and go away from Him, sometimes we get angry at Him and we just leave, but even during that time, He promises that His is near to us. There is nowhere you can go from His Spirit; you cannot flee from His presence. (Psalm 139:7) Why not just give in and allow Him to rescue you, to save you and to hide you safely beneath the shadow of His wings. Why do we not allow Him to comfort us, to hold us gently in His arms? Psalm 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble.” Our soul should silently wait for God for He is our salvation and He alone is our strength and when we rest in Him, we will find peace. – Melody

God's Call to Empathy

From Psychology Today, person to person, “empathy is the ability to recognize, understand, and share the thoughts and feelings of another ... Developing empathy is crucial for establishing relationships and behaving compassionately. It involves experiencing another person’s point of view, rather than just one’s own, and enables pro-social, or helping behaviors, that come from within, rather than being forced.” Webster adds to those thoughts with noting the ability to be empathetic comes “without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner.” Another statement that caught my attention said, “The ethic of empathy is the Golden Rule: do unto others, as you would have them do to you.” That made a lot of sense, and it brings us to the biblical command to love others which is joined with the command to love God intensely, passionately, dependently, and with our choices. I shared with a friend the grief my own heart was heavy with. She had been praying since I had made her aware of the crushing health needs of the one who eventually succumbed to those needs. And she had prayed even while she coped with health needs that were much closer to home for her. She understood the pain another was suffering. She understood the difficulty of giving and giving in the darkness of a very uncertain future. She also knew the reality of her ever-present God, the One who carries us when just to walk demands a strength we know nothing of. And she was able to give from her own pain to lighten the pain of another, both mine, and the family of one who had died too young. Umbrella Ministries defines itself as a support ministry reaching out to the hurts and hearts of mothers who have experienced the loss of a child. How are we able to do that? 2 Corinthians 1:3,4 answers the question. All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. Like my friend, the mothers of Umbrella Ministries share a very tragic need, but they have also found that Jesus’ Father is our Father too, and He is the Father who gives with understanding, compassion, and comfort. Many of the moms of Umbrella Ministries have and continue to have, a very deep, experiential knowledge of the comforting compassion of our Father. And, yes, it takes empathy to unimaginable levels sometimes when the grief of another becomes our own grief, not in the exact same way as the one who has recently lost, but still in a very sharing, responsive way. And God calls all of us to a similar empathy – to truly feel the hurts, pains, struggles and difficulties of another, especially in those areas in which we have a story, a history, even a present time of still walking through, that bears a strong resemblance to the other who is hurting. We can do it in all kinds of ways, but giving our presence when needed, dominates. We can assure another of our prayers, help with meals, or housework, or child care, be a listening ear, give comforting, encouraging words, and sometimes even challenging words. But whatever we “do,” it flows from a heart that has known the comfort of our Father, and a compulsion that can do no less than respond to another. – Bev (Related Bible reading: 2 Corinthians 1:3,4)