The Dirty Grief Inside Me

Good Grief, Charlie Brown.

Boy, Lucy was not kidding.

Grief is the weirdest most constricting feeling I have ever experienced. I already had no idea what the future held for me, and once grief entered the picture, everything suddenly became a Russian roulette. A game of chance with my emotions makes me nervous at best. Grief is one sneaky character.

Let me digress and say, I am normally a crier. God gave me tears a few years ago, and they have been an adjustment. They are a beautiful gift for me, personal and perfect in every way. But having tears as a gift, and bursting into tears because of grief? Two entirely different things.

My poor husband. He is such a champ, fighting through grief himself.  We hold one another up well, during this time of loss and sorrow. But sometimes we are tooling along, and out of nowhere, the tears start falling, anxiety raises and I feel a sense of panic overcome me.

Usually, I see something I want to share with my mom and dad. Except, it’s only mom now, here with us. Dad moved on to a much better situation a few weeks ago. I can’t be angry about that- he is with Jesus now. Who doesn’t want that? Isn’t it the goal?

But the turmoil and rollercoaster of emotions makes me want to punch someone. It catches me off guard every time. I sometimes forget he isn’t here. I sometimes think I will call and tell him something funny or weird I saw. Then I remember. So the grief takes hold and laughs at me, while I sob and the wave of emotion overtakes me like the ocean during a storm. My heart pounds in my chest and everything just hurts.

The truth about grief is simply this- it’s dirt we can’t shake off, no matter how we try. We can only go to Jesus and pray for relief. Sometimes we just have to collapse on the kitchen floor and cry it all out. Sometimes we need to run, work in the yard or take a long drive. In the end, we must remember our faith carries us through, with mercy following close behind. Our hearts are broken, but not shattered. This grief is temporary because one day we too will follow my dad’s footsteps and move on to the promises laid out for us long ago.

On March first, my grief became a reality, but it didn’t become a way of life. For those of us struggling through, remember Jesus is coming for you too one day. On that day, all despair, grief, loneliness and heartache will be washed away. There won’t be anything left to do except laugh, love, and worship.