On October 23, 2020, as I was sitting in the passenger seat of my father’s car, my dad went into cardiac arrest behind the wheel. This Saturday will mark one year since his passing.
This last year has been a whirlwind for me. In my mind and in my heart, every day has felt like I’m locked up inside of a room with a vacuum running amuck; it refuses to turn off. (That is my best attempt to try and explain what we call “grief”.)
I do not write you today to come across as an expert when it comes to grief. I’m not. There are countless other men and women who have learned to walk with Jesus through much more devastating things than me. I can’t even hold a candle to them. Additionally, I’ve gone through a mountain of books, sermons and resources on grief that would be way more beneficial to you as well.
But, as your friend, your pastor, I felt (for the first time in a year) like I was ready to write down some of the things I have learned as I’ve walked through the grief and loss of my father. I’ve written down over 20 points, and each one I could easily unpack into hour long sermons. But, for time’s sake, I’ll give you the abridged versions on just a few.
My hope would be that one day, when you, too, are ushered through the doors of grief, you could come back to this letter and find some comfort.
1. Grief doesn’t make sense.
It doesn’t adhere to any set of rules as it bounces around from every memory and experience you have. I’ve watched it appear when a song comes on the radio or when I hear the front door open. I find myself crying as I drive past all the places we used to go. I still do double-takes at the grocery store when I see people from a distance who resemble my dad. Each time is like a dagger in my heart. Grief does not reserve itself to a certain time or place. It can make you feel like joy is something you won’t experience again. But, I’ve also learned this:
2. Joy is constant, even in grief.
Psalm 30:5 says, “weeping may last the night but joy comes in the morning.” In Jesus, I have learned that no matter what the storm may be in the evening, it will not override the ultimate joy that is found in Christ. In each moment, we have the ability to draw near and include Jesus in every one of our experiences. I have found His comfort while weeping and praying. I have found His closeness through tears and laughter. Grief will rattle all your emotions and every one of your experiences. But, so will the joy of the Lord. Steer your grief toward the God of Comfort and let His face “shine upon you.” (Numbers 6:25)
3. Everything is hard.
Grief makes everything difficult. It’s like you’ve become a magnet that’s turned around and everything you try to connect with gets pushed away — in the opposite direction. Relationships will be hard. Communication will be hard. But, keep making the effort to connect with your friends and family. Keep up with your hobbies and passions. Keep pursuing Jesus and His church. You will not regret the reward of making the daily decisions to pursue these things — even when everything seems impossible.
4. Don’t let grief isolate you.
You may want to avoid people. Don’t. One of the greatest gifts the Lord has given you is the fellowship with the saints. The support of God’s beloved, who are there to walk with you through your grief, is a sweet mercy from the Lord. This doesn’t mean you must become an open book for everybody you interact with. Cling closely to a specific few. The ones who will bear your burdens with you. And cling to them very tightly.
5. Allow your friends to give “bad” advice.
Job had three friends who came to grieve with him in his time of need. Those friends also gave him plenty of bad advice. Your friends will, too. I can’t count how many times I’ve been an unhelpful friend and miserable comforter. Be patient and don’t grow cold toward them. Even when what they share is true, your heart may be too cold to receive it. I’ve heard countless times this year that in God “all things work together for good.” (Romans 8:28) It’s true. I believe it. And yet many times, those words have felt irrelevant. Whether your friend gives you some good advice (that you struggle to hear) or they air an opinion that upsets you, give them grace.
6. It’s ok to just be “ok”.
“Everybody wants me to be happy. They expect me to be better by now. I need to put on a mask and pretend I’m doing better than I am. They want me to say I’m fine when I’m not.” These have been thoughts I’ve had every day. There will often be a pressure you feel from others (who with good intentions) love you and want to see you get “back to normal”. You won’t. You will never again be the person you were before your loss. A piece of you is gone and you are now learning to live without it. In a month from now, six months or a year from now, your friends will hope to see that ol’ sparkle of yours return. And it may not. Surely, they want nothing but goodness to follow you after such a traumatic event. It’s ok if your progress has not accelerated as they’ve hoped. That’s why I say it’s ok to just be ok.
7. It’s ok to be happy.
With grief, it can be really hard to allow yourself to be happy. I noticed this firsthand when I took my family to Disney World back in February. My family had a blast. I didn’t. It felt like I was disrespecting my father by attempting to have fun when I should be lamenting. I felt guilty with thoughts of “my father will never get to experience this with us.” and “How can I be happy when I am dealing with something so sad?” In a way, I felt like if I was happy, then I was proclaiming that my heart didn’t hurt anymore. Of course, that is not true. The truth is that it’s ok to be happy. Even in the coming weeks and months of the loss of your loved one. Remind yourself that they would WANT happiness for you. It’s ok and healthy to put yourself in situations where you can experience happiness, laughter and excitement. Even in the midst of a sad season.
And lastly,
8. Your grief will be used for good.
Jesus was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Your pain and your loss will never be something that He isn’t familiar with. He identifies with us through it as He, too, has experienced it. Even in the most devastating blow from grief, God is not absent. He has promised to make good of it. He will be at work in your grief, and He will use it to sanctify you as you become more like His Son.
Over the last year, I have experienced a closeness and intimacy with Jesus that I have never experienced before. A dependency upon Jesus that I’ve never felt before. On October 23, 2020, Jesus drew near to comfort me in a profound way. I’ve never felt it before and it’s a comfort that I’ve clung to ever since. As the tears well up in my eyes as I write this, I can honestly say I will never be the same. And I am thankful.
As your friend, your pastor, and your brother in Jesus, I just want to say thank you. Jesus is real and His love is real. I’ve experienced Him in new ways through your prayers, kindness and tenderness toward me. I know many of y’all are still walking on eggshells around me. Thank you for continuing to persevere with me as I am still learning how to navigate through it all. You have loved me well. Your grace toward me is a testimony to how faithful our King is to us.
Thank you for being a friend.
Posted in A Word from the Pastor