Good Grief

My Grandmother loved to knit and now so do I.........

        Like many of you, I am experiencing grief this time of year.  I am going through the "firsts", the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas without my grandmother.  The ironic thing is that I have not spent a holiday with my grandmother in many years as distance was issue and yet I am on the verge of tears at any given time.  The Hallmark commercials, the Christmas music, and then the little reminders that surround me every day jolt me suddenly throughout the day.  And of course as we grieve a recent loss, we must make room for the losses that preceded it.

        As a pastor I know the healthy ways to grieve, however I also know that grief has its own plans, shows up, settles in, no invitation required, with no itinerary in hand. 

        I have always been intrigued by other cultures and how they grieve.  There is weeping and wailing, people lay themselves down on the ground there is no question as to how they are feeling.  How much of our own grief could be eased if we screamed it out without care or caution?  What would it mean to dress ourselves in a way that said, "I am grieving", I have no desire for chitchat, I am doing all I can just to be here. 

            Henri Nouwen writes in With Burning in Our Hearts: "But in the midst of all this pain, there is a strange, shocking, yet very surprising voice.  It is the voice of the one who says: 'Blessed are those who mourn: they shall be comforted.'  That's the unexpected news: there is a blessing hidden in our grief.  Not those who comfort are blessed, but those who mourn!  Somehow, in the midst of our mourning, the first steps of the dance take place.  Somehow, the cries that well up from our losses belong to our songs of gratitude."

            In our grief we connect ourselves to the world in new ways.  We understand each other a little better; we join others in a world that is difficult and complicated.  The little things that remind us of those who have passed before us, are the little things no longer taken for granted.  We are given new eyes.  Minutes do not fly by with little notice; we are given insight to the past; the good and the bad.  We take stock of our own lives; gaining a deep desire to live well.

        Our tears of sorrow and longing are truly our tears of being thankful for what was.  I do not grieve a saint, a person made perfect in death, but rather while acknowledging and shedding the imperfection, I reveal and remember all that was good...this is good grief.