The Hope We have in Grief

To those who have walked or are walking through grief:

Loss can take many forms. He is with us in it all.

I’ve been walking through some things lately that have made me so aware of my humanness. The emotions that are surfacing, resurfacing or getting louder. Things I thought I had ‘outgrown’. Things I thought I had healed from.

But His kindness rushed in before I could carry the weight of guilt and shame as He reminded me that human is what He created me to be - emotions, processes and all. His kindness gives space for all of this as He gently leads me beside quiet waters and opens spaces where He heals and mends and transforms.

There is space for our humanness at His table.

“For we do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathise and understand our weaknesses and temptations, but One who has been tempted [knowing exactly how it feels to be human] in every respect as we are, yet without [committing any] sin. Therefore let us [with privilege] approach the throne of grace [that is, the throne of God’s gracious favour] with confidence and without fear, so that we may receive mercy [for our failures] and find [His amazing] grace to help in time of need [an appropriate blessing, coming just at the right moment]." ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭4‬:‭15‬-‭16‬ ‭AMP‬‬

I can take some time to give language to the gut wrenching pain of grief which will still fall short when inspected by each individual griever. What I rather want to spend my time and language on is giving expression to something more immortal.

There’s something different about the way we grieve when we’ve met with the King.

We don’t grieve alone.

We don’t grieve without hope.

The deepest grief the universe has or will ever know could not crush the King. He grieves with us. Walks us through the mess. Carries us through the breathlessness. He mends us. One piece at a time. With the thread forged through His own grief and His raising back to life, He mends the brokenhearted, like only He can.

Death, where is your sting? The most final physical inevitability, yet in all your trying you are not final. In all your stealing, you are not rich. In all your scheming, victory eludes you.

As we grieve the loss of life on this earth - there is a light that shines even in this darkness. And even this darkness cannot overcome or comprehend or fathom what the Light is doing or how He does it.

What is felt as a loss without reason, He turns around into eternal seed sown into the hearts of the hearers.

“I assure you and most solemnly say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone [just one grain, never more]. But if it dies, it produces much grain and yields a harvest.” John‬ ‭12‬:‭24‬ ‭AMP‬‬

I do not mean to say that death is given so that there can be a harvest (this was the truth though in Christ’s case), but rather that even when we taste death, besides the fact that eternity awaits, every seed we’ve sown that came from the heart of the Father germinates in those who were touched by it and continue to bear fruit.

Death, where is your sting? If you stay away - His Kingdom advances. If you meet us at any age, His Kingdom still advances.

So, we allow ourselves to grieve. Experience the fulness of it. Sit under the shadow of His wings as He restores our souls.

We are not afraid of the crushing weight, because we have hope. Hope that there is a Way through. Hope that He grieves with us. There is no better Comforter. Hope that every seed sown by a loved one creates in us a harvest worthy of His Kingdom. Hope that the Master Mender knows exactly what He is doing - even when mending the impossible.

And this is true for every kind of grief. Not only within the sphere of grieving those who have passed. What about that job you lost? The relationship that didn't end the way you dreamed it would? What about the grief felt for others? The house you had to sell? The home you had to leave? The future you thought you'd have and worked towards? That business deal that didn't work out? And the list goes on...

He is with us in it all. He does not get impatient. He does not get antsy.

He does not critique the time it takes.

He is kind. He is patient. He mourns with those who mourn.

He was despised and rejected— a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. Isaiah 53:3 NLT

I've always thought it fascinating how the world is round (don't worry, not a flat earth debate), because it can't be the same minute and hour on every continent. And just as time is not uniform across the earth, so grief has its own rhythms, flowing differently for each of us. Yet, the world moves in rhythms of times and seasons that ebb and flow. Not minutes, hours, or seconds. Seasons.

It's natural to take your time in grieving. If you're familiar with Elisabeth Kübler-Ross' five stages of grief, you would have identified when and how you move through denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Sometimes they all take place in a single day, even multiple times. Other times, you cycle through them over months or years. It's not linear. And it doesn't have to be.

In our honesty, He comes. He holds us. Restores us. And most of all, He gives us a new vision for our lives - a new dream.

Dear friend, however impossible it may seem at this point in time, He is able to make all things new. He is the Resurrection and the Life. May you experience His resurrection in the areas that have died. They may look different than before, but anything that comes from Him can be trusted.

Until next time,

Bee

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life..." John 11:25

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:5

The King Protea thrives in nutrient-poor, acidic soil and relies on wildfires to regenerate. Its underground rootstock allows it to sprout again after fire. They can represent change, courage, and transformation. May our roots be so planted in Him, that we'll grow even when the earth was scorched around us.

He makes all things new...