Learning to Grieve with Hope

I haven’t posted anything in a while, quite honestly, because I don’t feel like I have much to offer.  Not that I did on my own before, but I was better at focusing on God and allowing Him to teach me lessons that I could perhaps share with others, and that was the best thing about them. 

When John was sick, we realized there was purpose in the pain and figured out God could teach us to thrive with ALS.  Our key scripture passage was Romans 15:13, which says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you will overflow with hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.”  We even shared what that meant with our church in April of 2015.  Indeed, God was faithful, and we learned to thrive.

After John died, I began running…a lot.  I experienced God’s presence on the running trails, and He provided comfort and companionship as He redefined the purpose in my loss.  I began to understand Hebrews 12:1-3 on a much deeper level during that time.  “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”  Again, God was faithful; I fixed my eyes on Jesus, and I did not lose heart.  Again, I had the opportunity to share that gift with my congregation and two others in March of 2016.

Which brings us to now.  Tom and I knew “blending” our families would be difficult, but the actual impact of the complexity of the struggles and the depth of the loss could not be completely realized until we were immersed in them.  Immersion – what a great metaphor; I often feel like I’m drowning in a sea full of demands, hurts, needs, and sin, many of which are mine.  Prioritizing the existing marriage is always the best order.  However, when kids pre-date that union, it can certainly seem like an impossible task.  Loss, loyalty and attachment issues fly in our faces and lead to division and arguments.  Embracing and appreciating the new unintentionally bruises the beauty of what came before, and since Tom and I have both experienced a failed marriage and a truly blessed marriage, the unavoidable comparison trap leads not only to overreactive fears but also intense longing for what is no longer.  That is just what happens between Tom and me, not to mention relationship dynamics with and between the boys, our parents and siblings and their families, my ex-husband and his new family, our deceased spouses’ families, the boys’ friends and our friends.  In short, the relationship challenges are often overwhelming, there is never enough time or energy to fully process and heal, and most days bring more loss, whether it’s the loss of trust, respect, or what little progress we seemed to have make.  So what do we do?  We work…hard, with little rest or relief in efforts to learn to love each other, support our kids and build a new family out of two that were so very different.  We pour ourselves out.  That work and the busyness of this life wear on us, and oh, how easy it is to complain!  God IS working; He is with us, has not abandoned us, has great plans, and I see fruit, even if only the size of a grape sometimes.  My faith in God’s sovereignty and faithfulness has not changed; I trust He is using all of this to sanctify us and equip us for future ministry opportunities that will require the experience of living through this trial, but right now, I’m having a hard time getting over how much it just stinks.  My attitude often follows suit, and my ability to encourage (which was weak to start with) has suffered as well.

BUT GOD directed me to the book of Philippians today, first to passage 2:6-11, which summarizes beautifully the depth of Jesus’ suffering in humility through His death on the cross, and then 14-18, which starts with “Do everything without complaining or arguing…” Ugh.  Such a hard pill to swallow.  I needed help.   A google search and commentary from John Piper about that passage then led me to chapter 1 verse 25, in which Paul addresses joy in the faith.  That’s it! I have faith, but like the Philippians, the increasing burden of loss has stolen my joy.  I feel the need to rest there for a minute because loss is serious and requires grieving.  The expression of deep sorrow and hurts cannot and should not be ignored, but we can’t live in our heartaches.   We are to grieve with hope; we celebrate what was, acknowledge the changes, remember God is still good and embrace the future with anticipation all at the same time.  I wish I could tell you I’ve figured out how to do that.  You have no idea how much I wish that, and sometimes I do get glimpses. I like glimpses. Obviously, I'm struggling to see them right now.

However, God, as He so gracefully does, has encouraged me yet again.  In verse 6, Paul says, “being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ.”  God isn’t done with me yet, and even the Apostle Paul, who was desperate to fully know Christ, to be like Him and dressed in His righteousness, struggled.  “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.  - Philippians 2:12-14  I think I’ll be reading this book every day for a while now.  I need the constant reminder that it is possible to be more like Christ, to be content and rejoice in the face of suffering, that our confidence and contentment cannot come from ourselves, that there is a glorious body that awaits us, and displaying humility in the middle of our trials can allow us to shine like stars in the universe, giving glory and praise to God.

God is faithful.  He will help me grieve with hope, love my new family well and glorify Him. He and I both know I can’t do it on my own. 😉  Let’s press on, my friends.