Psalm 40:2 “He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.”
When our girls were little, we took them to a place called Mono Hot Springs which is located in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was such a beautiful place. It had hot springs and mud baths that were used for healing. As we walked around, my youngest daughter stepped into one of the mud baths. It was like a huge mud monster swallowed her up to her knees. As we tried to encourage her to keep lifting her legs, she continued to stay stuck. As she lifted her feet, her shoes became another victim of this muddy beast. You could see the panicked look on her face. My husband and I realized one of us was going to have to go in and fight this monster. My husband being the man he is, took on the fight. He recovered her, muddy and shoeless, but he set her down on solid ground. With tears in her eyes she said, “Daddy, I thought I would be there for never and never.”
As I was looking through some old journals the other day, I came across a journal my sister gave me in 1997. It was the year my daughter died. As I glanced through each page, I read words that described my deep grief. Yet even in those words, there was a glimmer of hope. I felt the Lord walking with me and carrying me through that first year. Then I came to the date July 2, 1998, a year to the day of Katie’s death. I am not sure what I was thinking on that first anniversary. People often tell you grief should last a year. There is so much knowledge we gain as we walk through grief. I learned the pain of grief lasts longer than others feel you deserve. The words on the page seemed to turn a little darker, more tired, even less hopeful. There seemed to be no end to this deep pain. As I resisted the words on the page I remembered my surprise on how much pain I still was carrying. Lord, this is still hurting so bad. Will I ever find my footing again? I can’t live in this place forever -- the pain is unbearable. I was like my daughter stuck in a muddy pit and feeling like I would be there for never and never. The Lord saw my battered and hurting body, mind and spirit. He knew what I needed when I didn’t, and He sent it.
A friend of mine once said, “Sometimes you need a miracle, and sometimes you are the miracle.” A miracle was sent to me through a phone call from a woman who would change my life. She told me about a group of women who would be meeting at church to share their stories of loss. I was desperate for anything to ease my pain. As I walked in that room and listened to each woman share her heart, I found these women were miracles even though they had no idea. They showed me what was possible. Through their strength and encouragement I knew I too could find my footing again.
We are told to comfort others as we have been comforted. Grief is messy. Yet those of us farther along see those who are stuck in that muddy pit. They look at us and wonder, “Will I be stuck here for never and never?” We know what we have to do. With the Lord right beside us, we hold out our hand to those who need a helping hand. We are a living example of lifting our foot through the mud and mire, in other words, doing the work of grief. We point them to the only one who can set their feet on solid ground, Abba Father.
Lord we thank You for miracles when we need them, and we thank You for the privilege of being someone else’s miracle.
– Michele
