Rescuing Together: The Importance of the Faith Community in the Midst of Grief

[Continuing our current series, we explore why being a part of a community of faith is absolutely critical if we are to grieve faithfully as Christians.]

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn."  Romans 12:15

     The well-known story is told of the man who found himself trapped on the roof of his house in the midst of a massive flood.  He prayed fervently to God for rescue, but as a neighbor's boat, police helicopter, and Coast Guard raft each came to him, he refused their aid, crying out instead , "The Lord will save me!" Having rejected all aid, he eventually succumbed to the floodwaters and drowned.  Standing before God in heaven, he asked dejectedly, "God, why did you not save me?" to which God replied, "What do you mean?  I sent you a boat, a helicopter, and the Coast Guard!"

      I doubt that any of us, in the midst of a flood, would mistake a Coast Guard boat or helicopter as anything but a form of rescue from God.  And yet how many of us, in the midst of grieving a loss, pray to God for comfort, provision, and peace, and yet fail to recognize our own church community as an avenue, perhaps the largest avenue, of God's answer to those prayers?

     Like the man on his roof, we reject the very things sent to save us in the flood of our grief.  We pray for comfort, but refuse to let fellow church members talk to us.  We pray for peace, but reject a minister or elder's invitation to meet.  We pray for strength, but push aside every form of outreach from our fellow Christians.  We fail to see the sheer volume of phone calls, cards, emails, and words of condolence from our Christian family as the very essence of God's response to our prayers for help.

     Grief certainly can have a blinding and numbing effect on us, especially in the first several weeks.  We can be surrounded by people expressing their sincere love for us and not feel any of it, as we stand in the foyer after the funeral.  Cards and phone calls may not really make an impact on us.  And that is somewhat inevitable- it comes with the territory.  But in time our faith in God's provision should lead us to recognize and acknowledge that all of those forms of outreach are signs of God walking with us and grieving alongside us, just as Jesus did in John 11.  

     Through His people, God honors His promise of peace and calm for our troubled hearts (John 14:27).  

     It is fellow Christians who mourn with us, reminding us that God mourns with us.  It is fellow Christians who point us back to the Word time and again, reminding us that we are not like those who have no hope (1 Thess. 4:13).  It is fellow Christians who show patience and compassion to us as we wrestle through the myriad of emotions that accompany a journey of grief, because God is a patient and compassionate God.  And it is fellow Christians who show us hospitality, pray faithfully for us, and use their unique gifts to minister to us (Romans 12), because God has called them to do so out of his own love for each of us.  

     The floodwaters of grief are strong and deep, but through the local church and all of its forms of outreach and care, God rescues us, comforts us, and provides for us.  Let us be mindful of this important theological reality.  When we ourselves are mourning, let us allow the church to minister to us in all its many forms.  When someone among us is mourning, let us fulfill our high calling in Romans 12 to minister , to show hospitality, to pray for, and to mourn with them.  In doing so, we answer the prayers of those who cry out to God for peace and comfort.

Learning Together: The Importance of the Faith Community in the Midst of Grief

[Continuing our current series (see the previous post below), we explore why being a part of a community of faith is absolutely critical if we are to grieve faithfully as Christians.]

     Your first day, at your new job, at your new company.

     Do you remember how that day felt?  Perhaps one of your biggest emotions that day was anxiety as a result of uncertainty.  Your excitement at your new fresh start quickly gives way to the realization of just how little you know about your new place of employment.

     How does this new and different copier work?  Is there a place I can store my lunch?  What is the basic attitude toward vacations and personal days- is there a limit?  Do I need to check with someone before I leave the building?

     I began my new ministry work a little over two months ago.  In those first few weeks I came to rely heavily upon our church secretaries and our executive minister, all of whom patiently guided me through what was certainly, to them, the most mundane tasks.  Setting up my email, showing me how to use the copier, a tutorial on the different computer programs we utilize.  Every part of how this church office runs is different from the church I came from- where would I be without these faithful guides to show me the way?

      A significant amount of guidance is needed just to use the office copier on it's best day.  Now imagine the copier is broken- what chaos!  If we are this dependent on others when facing a broken copier at a new job, why would we think any less guidance would be necessary to walk through a time of grief as a Christian, when life itself seems to break down?

      Perhaps the thing that frustrates me most about Christians who deny their need to be a member of the local church is the danger they pose to non-Christians when things get difficult.  I could cause quite a bit of damage trying to wade my way through that broken copier, but it's no comparison to the spiritual and theological havoc that can be caused from a "lone eagle" Christian giving advice to a grieving friend or even trying to cope with their own grief themselves.

     The problem is this:  Without a community of faith to continually guide and correct us, we will always have a distorted view of who God is and what He is like.  On a good day this is a dangerous combination of elements, but in a time of grief where we are vulnerable and asking some of the most difficult questions a human can pose, this is a theological disaster.  A skewed portrait of God can irretrievably push someone, even ourselves, to walk away from God when we question his goodness and faithfulness in a time of grief because we have an idea of him that is not true...and there is no community of faith to correct it.

     When Priscilla and Aquila met Apollos, they saw both his great potential as an evangelist but also his need to know the "way of God more accurately" (Acts 18).  The community of faith set about lovingly guiding and correcting this young man's understanding of God, with the result that he became a great messenger for the Lord.  It is the church community, Paul says, that enables us to "reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature...[no longer] tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming" (Ephesians 4).  The faith community of the local church exists to help each of its members hold on to good and right views of God, so that when the wind and waves of life become violent, we will not be carried away.  

At some point, all of us need to hear "It is well with my soul" sung to us, and only the local church can accomplish that great act of faith.

      

     In storms we feel most vulnerable, and grief is one of the greatest storms we can face.  In the church we hold up a Biblical understanding of God and hold fast to Biblical teaching for times of trouble.  After all, grief is no place for the lone eagle Christian, but the household of God stands ready to guide, comfort, and teach.

     

Frustrated Together: The Importance of the Faith Community in The Midst of Grief

[In this new series, we'll explore why being a part of a community of faith is absolutely critical if we are to grieve faithfully as Christians.]

      One of my favorite chapters in the Bible is John 11, where Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.  There are so many elements to enjoy here: the theology of the resurrection, the humanity of Jesus, the roller coaster ride of emotions, the triumph of Christ over death.  The whole chapter is, in essence, a microcosm of our struggle to reconcile the sovereignty of God with the reality of pain and suffering in the world.  Through his narrative, John helps us find answers to some pretty powerful questions.

      How does God react to our own grief?  

     What does it look like to grieve in the midst of holding on to faith? 

     What would God say if he were standing next to me at a funeral for one of my relatives?

     If you're not familiar with the story, here it is.  Mary and Martha's brother, Lazarus, falls deathly ill.  Being closely acquainted with Jesus, the two sisters call Jesus to their home.  Even though Jesus is just two miles away, he purposely waits several days before making the trip.  By the time he arrives, Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days already.  

Mary and Martha both question Jesus' tardiness in showing up, proclaiming both their faith in his power to save and their frustration at his choice not to.  Jesus follows them to the tomb, and when he sees the deep sorrow of the sisters and those who have gathered to comfort them, the Son of God weeps.  Then he turns his attention to the tomb, where He commands Lazarus to come forth, which he does in glorious resurrection.  All of this, Jesus has said, is for the glory of the Father and to strengthen the faith of his followers.

     Let's observe three important elements here:

    1.  The differing reactions of Mary and Martha.  Martha comes with an air of resolute faith, questioning Jesus' late arrival, proclaiming that He can surely heal her brother, and engaging in a discussion of the resurrection.  She is trying so hard to be faithful in her grief.  But Mary comes a mess of emotions and tears, able to only get out one statement- Lazarus is dead because Jesus was not there.  True, it is the same opening remark that her sister Martha made, but without the accompanying statement of faith after that fact.  Martha knows Jesus can still make things right; for Mary, time has gotten the better of Jesus, and her brother is gone because of it.

     2.  The role of the Jewish community.  Not unlike modern-day visitations and home gatherings, the community of faith has come together to remember, to grieve, to comfort, and, most  importantly, to be frustrated together.  To ask among themselves, "Could not this Jesus who healed blind people have also healed Lazarus?"  The ability to have a safe place to ask such a daring question is crucial if we are to grieve faithfully.  The whole narrative of loss, mourning, questioning, journeying to the tomb, and witnessing the resurrection of Lazarus is done in community!  These are not isolated incidents shared by a handful of believers- they are transformational events in the life of that Jewish community.

The ability to have a safe place to ask daring questions is crucial if we are to grieve faithfully.

    3.  The emotional reaction of Jesus. Jesus' emotional state is so telling because it reveals the very reaction of God to the suffering and pain in this world.  Most of us are familiar with the famous verse 35, "Jesus wept."  But just as important, and even more theologically loaded, are the almost identical statements in verses 33 and 38, where Jesus is "deeply moved in spirit, troubled."  The Greek word "embrimaomai" here communicates more than just grief or sadness, but more like frustration and indignation at the state of things.  The classical use of the word, though certainly not intended literally here, is the "snort" of horses when they are agitated!  Jesus is deeply moved, yes, but even more so he, too, is frustrated with the fallen state of things, with the presence of death and suffering, and with the toll it takes on those left behind.  

     In other words, Jesus shares in the frustration of the Jewish community.  Can you imagine how transformative it was for those followers to mourn alongside Jesus, to express frustration with death and loss and see it echoed in the face of the Son of God?  To realize that God's ability to conquer death does not keep Him from relating to us in our times of loss?  That God is not distant and removed from His children but is quite literally grieving in our midst, even as we await the resurrection He has promised us?

     The community of faith is what enables us to grieve faithfully because it gives us a safe place to be frustrated together.  With one hand we hold on to our faith that God is ever-present and working all things for good in His own way and time, and with the other hand we hold our very real and present doubts, questions, and emotions.  When we are able to do that not as isolated individuals, or even isolated family units, but within the context of fellow believers (and fellow sufferers!), we are one step closer to grieving faithfully, in a way that honors God while also honoring our hurt.

Bad Theology & Suffering: What God is NOT Doing in the Midst of Our Hurt

"Consider now: Who, being innocent, has ever perished?  Where were the upright ever destroyed?"     -Eliphaz 

"If we have a bad day, we have missed something somewhere because God has made provision for us to enjoy His blessings." -Gloria Copeland

     Whether they know it or not, prosperity preachers have managed to make a belief system as rigid and depressing as “retribution theology” incredibly appealing to modern audiences.  How does one do this?  Focus only on the “divine reward” section and take the “divine” part out of “punishment,” leaving it as something man brings on himself.  Now, God is limited to bringing about only “good” things like success and wealth.  Well-known prosperity preacher Robert Tilton has done nothing more than re-name the “law of retribution” to something more appealing: the “law of compensation.”   The framework of the Prosperity Gospel’s “success formula,” touted as a “universal or cosmic law,” is that “financial success will come to those who have the faith to believe it and who are themselves a giving people.”   Define “success” in terms of the worldly treasures and God becomes a cosmic ATM machine, only dispensing those things that we ask for to make us happy.  This distorted view of “blessings” also creates a distorted view of “suffering,” which can no longer come from God.  Things like sickness, pain, and poverty can only come from Satan or man’s own foolishness, because God does not allow or cause those things for His children.   “If we have a bad day, we have missed something somewhere because God has made provision for us to enjoy His blessings.”   In other words, if you are not receiving Gloria Copeland’s definition of blessings (health, wealth, and success), it’s your fault.  

       This part of prosperity teaching is the same retribution theology espoused by Job’s friends.  Eliphaz, in Job 4:6-7, asks.  “Should not your piety be your confidence and your blameless ways your hope?  Consider now: Who, being innocent, has ever perished?  Where were the upright ever destroyed?”  Bildad is a bit blunter when, in 8:2-4, he rebukes Job’s claims of innocence: “How long will you say such things? You words are a blustering wind.  Does God pervert justice?  Does the Almighty pervert what is right?  When your children sinned against him, he gave them over to the penalty of their sin.”   Worse than blaming Job, Bildad places causality in the hands of Job’s children.  Much like Jesus’ apostles in John 9, retribution theology and Prosperity theology center on causality, or identifying the source of suffering.  As Job reflects on his “bad day,” prosperity preachers can only remind him, “If we have a bad day, we have missed something.”  What stinging words of hopelessness and despair in the midst of such tragedy!  Yet this is exactly what retribution theology and Prosperity teaching offers in such situations.

Far from the Bible’s portrayal of God as caring for the oppressed and the downtrodden, Prosperity preachers can offer only a guilt-centered solution: get right with God.

       It is important to note here how retribution theology, and thus Prosperity teaching, works “in reverse.”  If God always rewards the righteous with success, and poverty and sickness are always a result of man’s refusing to follow Him, then a man like Job, in the throes of despair and suffering, can only be looked down upon as “unblessed.”   God has not brought this upon Job; Job has brought it upon himself.  Retribution theology and the Prosperity Gospel unfortunately share a terrible view of the poor and diseased: they have brought it upon themselves.  Far from the Bible’s portrayal of God as caring for the oppressed and the downtrodden, Prosperity preachers can offer only a guilt-centered solution: get right with God.  The words of W. Edward Glenny in his analysis of retribution theology, “…this doctrine becomes a reason to reject people who are hurting (…) [because] suffering is seen as the judgment of God for sin and wickedness” echoes both J. Kwabena Asamoah-Gyadu’s criticism of Prosperity teaching when he proclaims that “these churches make little room for the poor” and the AJET Editorial’s remarks that “the Prosperity Gospel victimizes the poor.”   In the face of suffering, instead of pointing people to God, the Prosperity Gospel, like retribution theology, points people back to themselves.   Creflo Dollar says that “every failure in life is a prayer failure.”   God’s sovereignty as seen in His ability to use suffering to benefit and strengthen His people is taken away, leaving “the poor, the marginalized, and those who have not succeeded without any grounds for faith in God.” 

The above article is an excerpt from my term paper, "Retribution Theology, Sunny-Side Up: Examining the Prosperity Gospel through the Lenses of Job."  If you would like to read the entire paper, email me at grego [dot] parks [at] gmail [dot] com.

References:

Sarles, Ken L. "A Theological Evaluation of the Prosperity Gospel." Bibliotheca Sacra 143, no. 572 (October 1, 1986): 329-352.

Hollinger, Dennis P. "Enjoying God Forever : An Historical/Sociological Profile of the Health and Wealth Gospel." Trinity Journal 9, no. 2 (September 1, 1988): 131-149.

Calvin, Jean, and Knox Bucer-Beza. "The real prosperity gospel: God's ways may be hidden, but his purpose for us is not." Christianity Today 53, no. 4 (April 1, 2009): 58-318. 

Copeland, Gloria. Blessed Beyond Measure: Experience the Extraordinary Goodness of God. Tulsa, OK: Harrison House, 2004.

Withrow, Lisa R. "Success and the Prosperity Gospel: From Commodification toTransformation: A Wesleyan Perspective." Journal of Religious Leadership 6, no. 2 (September 1, 2007): 15-41.

Glenny, W. Edward. “How Well Do You Know God? The Dangers of Retribution Theology.” Searching Together 23 (Spring 1995): 13-17.

Asamoah-Gyadu, J Kwabena. “Did Jesus Wear Designer Robes? The Gospel preached in Africa’s new Pentecostal churches ends up leaving the poor more impoverished than ever.” Christianity Today 53, no. 11 (November 1, 2009): 38-41.

Gehman, Richard J. “The Prosperity Gospel: An AJET Editorial.” Africa Journal of Evangelical Theology 20, no. 1 (2001): 1-2.

Ross, Bobby, Jr. "Prosperity Gospel on Skid Row: Difficulties of high-profile pastors may reorient movement -- or reinforce it." Christianity Today 53, no. 2 (February 1, 2009): 12-13.

Dollar, Creflo. Eight Steps to Create the Life You Want: The Anatomy of a Successful Life. New York: FaithWords, 2008.

Comfort From Those Who Have Been There

One of my most treasured experiences as part of my grief studies this semester has been sitting down with members of our congregation who have lost someone, whether recently or many years ago, and letting them share their story and their wisdom with me.  I took some time earlier this week to go back and listen to the recordings of our conversations again and pull out some common themes.  Two of these ladies lost their husbands and the third lost her mother, all quite suddenly.  All three were forced to deal with the pain of grief that came out of nowhere, from a loss that was neither expected nor welcomed.  And all three are beautiful testimonies to the goodness of God and the strength and comfort He provides.

One of the questions I asked all three of these ladies was "What would you say to someone now who has just lost someone close to them and is beginning their own journey through grief?"  Two key phrases came up in all three conversations, which occurred separately and weeks apart from each other- to me that says these two pieces of wisdom are worth sharing here.

First, take life moment by moment in these beginning weeks and months.  The realization that someone we have shared our life with is gone does not come all at once- it comes gradually, and therefore painfully, in the little reminders of every part of our day where we once again catch ourselves looking for them or wondering where they are, only to remember they are gone.  Our minds have become so accustomed to their presence that our brain seems to play dirty little tricks on us, wherein we turn to say something to our loved one, suddenly remember they are gone and become emotional for a few moments, then turn and do the same thing again just an hour later.  It is a very painful and gut-wrenching experience these first few weeks as we re-train our minds to no longer look for their face or listen for their voice.  The silence that is left in their place is deafening, especially after the friends and family have gone back to their lives after the obligatory two-week vigil with us.

This painful process of gradual realization requires us to take life moment by moment, to focus only on the step we are on, and to allow ourselves the time necessary to cry, to weep, to mourn, and to miss our loved one each time we are reminded that they are gone.  These are the times where we are the most tempted to go around our grief rather than through it, because the pain is just too great.  And certainly there are times where we need to choose to walk away for a bit and let our minds and our hearts focus on something else.  But as one of these ladies told me:

"I found my tears to be helpful and to be healing because when I cried, it emptied out the fullness I felt of grief so I could have spare [room] to fill up again with peace."

What a beautiful illustration of grief allowing us the necessary act of "emptying ourselves" through tears and sadness so that we can be free to be filled up again with peace, comfort, and hope.  This "emptying" is such an important part of grief, and I believe it is part of the wisdom found in Ecclesiastes 7:2,

"It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart."

If we continually go to the house of feasting, we will deprive ourselves of the emptiness needed to be filled with the "peace that passes understanding" promised to us in Philippians 4:6-11.  Remember, one who is empty can find comfort and peace with God in a way that a full person cannot.

Second, it will get better.  Perhaps the most difficult advice to believe is that, eventually, this ache will lessen, the crying will taper, and the difficulty of simply getting through a day will become lighter.  But all three of these ladies are testimonies to the fact that grief does get better over time.   There is hope to be found, there is light at the end of this dark tunnel, and you will not feel this way forever.  The "emptying" mentioned above will not be needed forever.   Eventually, that peace and hope will remain longer and longer, and the emptiness will begin to lessen, until we come to a place where we are filled in a new way.  We will still have moments where we need to grieve and remember, but we will no longer need to empty ourselves in the process; the peace and comfort we have now stays with us, even in times of sadness.

And in this new "fullness," we have become different person.  We have allowed our grief to shape us, to mature us, to strengthen us and to make us wise.  It has not dominated us completely, but we have allowed it to serve a purpose for us.  We have not ignored our grief or treated it like an illness to be cured- we have given it the time and attention it asks for, and we continue to do so, only in new and less "dominating" ways.  We are filled with hope and peace in a way that we would never have been before were it not for our grief forcing us to empty ourselves so that we could be filled again.  And for that, we are better. 

For all of us missing loved ones around the Thanksgiving table this holiday, may God grant us that fullness, not just the kind that comes from turkey and dressing, but that comes from the peace and hope that only He can grant.

Lion Cannibalism, Theodicy, & The Joker

"You know what I've noticed?  Nobody panics when things go 'according to plan.'  Even if the plan is horrifying!"  -The Joker

This past Sunday afternoon at the Dallas Zoo, a pair of lion brothers fatally attacked a lioness in their pride, seizing her by the throat and crushing her.  Horrified guests at the zoo could only look on helplessly.  The zoo quickly issued a "Code Red" and cleared the lion exhibit, and the remaining lions have been separated from the two attackers.  (The cats will not be euthanized.)

Zoo officials and animal experts have called it a "seemingly unprovoked attack."

The reaction to this attack has been interesting.  People who the night before lounged partially amused on the couch watching lions attack each other (along with zebras and gazelles) on the National Geographic channel were suddenly horrified by the same thing occurring in front of them at the zoo.

Why?  Because this wasn't "according to plan."

Big cats in captivity are supposed to be tame (we say), to have their natural instincts slowly worn down.  We go to a zoo to see big powerful lions yawn and spend lazy days in the sun, not tap into their God-given "wild animal side" and kill each other.

But lion attacks on National Geographic on safari, in the wilds of Africa?  No problem.  Horrifying, yes, but also "according to plan."

Now, don't get me wrong.  I would probably have been horrified, too, especially if Nolan (my 3-month old son) was there with me.  As much as I respect the "red in tooth and claw" aspect of nature, I've always had a soft-spot for animals (especially dogs), and it saddens me that this beautiful lioness (described as "clever" and "playful" by her handlers) was taken down in such an unexpected and violent manner.  It really is a tough thing and I feel for those who are mourning her loss.

But it got me thinking about how we, as human beings, react to death and tragedy in different contexts.  The Joker was on to something when he observed that no one really freaks out in reaction to death and tragedy when they are "according to plan."  If the context calls for death and tragedy as a part of the "natural order of things," such as a soldier being killed in a war zone, we react differently than if that same soldier is shot in his stateside army barracks by a fellow soldier, or gunned down outside of his home in a quiet suburban neighborhood.

Or when captive lions in a zoo suddenly kill one of their own.

How we react to tragedy reveals a lot about ourselves as human beings, but it also reveals a lot about our view of God.  Theodicy is the area of the theological study that deals with how we reconcile God and suffering.  It looks at questions like "How can a benevolent God allow all this suffering in the world?" and "How much control does God have over evil in this world?"  And as Christians I think we tend to waiver between two somewhat contradictory views about God and suffering.  When things go "according to plan," i.e. we experience tragedy that is expected or somewhat warranted by the situation, we don't question God, and we chalk it up to things like "natural law" and a "broken, fallen creation."  But when tragedy strikes without warning and doesn't follow our preconceived ideas about how this world should work, we suddenly question God's love, His power, even His every existence, and our faith is dashed against the rocks in a moment of despair and confusion.

So, for example, when we see lions kill each other in the Serengeti or the casualties of war, Christians tend to say "Well, there's Genesis 3 for you.  All this violence in creation- one day it will be righted."  But when we lose a loved one in a freak car accident or see "tame" lions kill each other in the zoo exhibit, we question everything, including God, and throw up our hands in desperation.

This "loss of control" when things go astray from a preconceived "plan" is one of the harshest parts of grief.  The anger that comes with loss is simply our way of saying we are unhappy with the way things are, that we can't control them and put things right.  Our "plan" has not been followed- nothing is stable anymore!  This is one of the dangers of trying to decipher life through the lens of a cosmic order- if your "order" is not correct, it can lead to some terrible thoughts about God, creation, and humanity.

God's Word makes it clear that this world is broken, that life will not be easy, and that suffering will come.  In John 16:33 Jesus promises us His peace, but the fact that we need His peace at all is a sign of what the world has in store for us!  "In this world you will have trouble!"  And in Romans 8 Paul describes the "groaning" of creation and the "bondage to decay" that the world experiences, but also the "glorious freedom" that awaits us as God's children.

In other words, suffering is a part of this "plan" whether we like it or not. 

Part of the "plan" that God is slowly working out involves suffering.  If Scripture is the blueprint for this plan that we keep trying to refer to and figure out, then we need to make sure we understand the whole plan, and not just parts of it.  Liberation, freedom, and heaven are part of that plan...but for now, so is suffering, trouble, and hardship.

When this is the lens we use to view life, Jesus' words take on new meaning and new hope, because Jesus is not sugarcoating the suffering this world will bring, but He looks through it to something better- something only He can give...and that, too, is part of God's plan.  God is many things, including honest.  He does not promise what He cannot give, and He does not keep things from us even when we may not want to hear them.  So when He promises trouble and suffering, I believe Him.  But in the same breath He promises peace and freedom from fear, and when the same God promises both things, it's comforting, because a God who is real about tragedy is also real about the peace He provides.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

Lessons from a Fellow Mourner

The other day I was blessed to spend some time with an older lady who was widowed one year ago.  We met to talk about her journey of grief and what she has learned and gained from her experience.  To say our time together was enlightening would be an understatement.  You see, all of us will go through times of grief in our lives, but not all of us will be as aware and as attentive as she was in "taking it all in" and really processing our grief experience.  For me personally, my grief journey at the death of my father is still in a lot of fog- I have been able to recall parts of it, but much of it is still lost to me.  In contrast, this sweet sister kept three daily journals, some of which she shared with me.  They are full of her thoughts, feelings, experiences, and moments that she wanted to capture, both on good days and bad days.

I wanted to share a few of her insights here regarding grief, especially as a widow:

• The moment of loss becomes, for many, the "defining moment" from which someone in grief bases all other life moments.  Just like scientists use the terms "B.C" and "A.D." as defining markers in history, so many of us use the terms "before I lost him" and "after I lost him" to tell time in life after we lose someone.  Without even realizing it, we will use those terms in conversations that have nothing to do with loss or that person.  For example, we might say in a conversation about a car we used to own, "Yeah, before John died I had a car just like that."
  
• One of the hardest things to measure after a loss is how, and if, we're growing spiritually and mentally in a healthy way.  Journaling, for those that enjoy writing, is an excellent way to record thoughts and feelings each day, so that later on you can go back and see the changes in our outlook and demeanor.  Grief provides enough of a roller coaster emotionally that judging whether or not we have progressed in any real way can be incredibly difficult.  We can go for weeks without really acknowledging or remembering how we felt the day before.  Days run together and become a blur.  Journaling freezes our emotions for us and records them for us to serve as a measuring line.
  
• We live, and the church operates in, a "couples world."  The idea of "husband, wife, and kids" is so ingrained in our minds that we have difficulty seeing the world through any other kind of lens.  This is not necessarily a terrible way to view life (it is certainly a Godly lens), but it has the common consequence of leaving those who have been widowed on the sideline, the periphery, to grieve alone.  The church is full of couples who arrive together, sit and worship together, fellowship together in the hallway, and leave together for a meal.  We acknowledge our widowed brothers and sisters while we are in church with them, but ultimately we forget (because we are not trained to look for it) that they arrive alone, worship alone (many times but not all the time), and (worst of all, according to my friend) leave the church alone.  As ministers, elders, and church members, we need to re-train our eyes and hearts to look for these solitary brothers and sisters who have lost their "better-half," who have gone from two to one, and reach out to them.  Invite them to a meal, sit with them during worship, even just walk with them to their car.  The "alone-ness" is one of the most difficult physical aspects of grief at the loss of a spouse.
  
• The "seasons of sentiment" are very lopsided for those who are grieving.  The holidays tend to bring an "over-showering" of sentiment for those who have lost a loved one because everyone around them (friends and family) are suddenly remembering how hard the holidays will be for them.  But they forget the other days of the year many times.  The holidays might be difficult, but so are springs where suddenly "spring cleaning" has to be done alone, summers where vacations for "just the two of you" no longer can take place, and autumns where enjoying the changing leaves can no longer be shared.  Let's not just remember our friends who have lost loved ones during Christmas and Thanksgiving- let's remember that grief doesn't take a holiday, and that we need to be mindful year-round of their grief journey.

 These are just a few of those insights, shared by a wonderful sweet sister who has much to share, and for whose life and experiences I am grateful.  May each of us find ways to encourage others as she has.