My Grief Observed

So I go to the cardiologist on Wednesday to find out where this hole in my heart came from. 

But I don't need any cardiologist to tell me that.  I already know.

I felt it forming itself in me last February when we said goodbye to Pawpaw.

What is it about grief and grieving?  It sinks its claws in you and Will.Not.Quit.  It's intrusive and relentless and silently, patiently waits until you think you have moved on and then it sinks its sharp claws in your tender heart once more. 

I had a dream about Pawpaw this week.  His eyes were bright and cheeks were full and I had my arm around him and his around me and he was talking something about farming. I was just sitting at his feet as any student of a good teacher would do. It was beautiful and precious.  And then it was gone.  And my eyes opened and it was morning.

There is something so intimate about dreaming about those that you have lost.  You get to touch them and talk with them.  It is so much more intense than the memories you recall.  After I have one about Pawpaw I feel haunted by it.  Scabs torn off a very tender, fresh wound.

I spent some time with Grannie a few weeks ago.  I can't remember the exact specifics but we were laughing over something.  A good laugh.  A good belly laugh.  But there was something in her that was painful about it.  Something in her gut that was holding her back.  Half her smile is gone without him.  It hurts to have a laugh without him there to share it with. 

At church this past week there was a man there named Barney Hulett.  He was the pilot to Army 1, the precursor to Marine 1.  He flew Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson.  I thought it was such an honor to have someone like that with us and I so wanted my kids to meet him.  But I cried straight through the service at the thoughts of going over to him.  The thought of shaking this man's hand...I don't know.  It seems irrational now.  But then.  Sitting in that pew.  He just reminded me so much of Pawpaw.  And it would have been much easier to say the Amens and walk out the door.  But I did it. We did it.  We met him and his wife.  And it was a delight.  Just as anyone who would have ever walked over to Pawpaw and Grannie and met them would have been delighted. 

I have to tell you there are many deaths I've been dying lately.  Death to self, death of some friendships, death of dreams unfulfilled.  And I've been grieving them all.  It's not always easy to say goodbye, especially when what you are saying goodbye to doesn't seem to be a bad thing.  It seems to be reasonable to have to give up the things that are bad for us.  But when they are good things, good people, good friends, good jobs, good childbearing years, a good marriage we didn't want to end.  When things end that we just can't seem to make sense of.  It is hard.  And heart breaking.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Psalms 147:3

I've been thinking alot about the story about the Good Samaritan.  About how most of the times in my life I have been the heartless clown that passes by the helpless hurting.  Occassionally I have gotten to be the good neighbor.  But these days.  Yes these days I feel more like that other guy.  The one lying in the ditch.  The one that if I don't get the balm of His healing Word will certainly perish. 

He sent out his word and healed them, snatching them from the door of death.

Psalm 107:20

Grieving is such a terribly lonely place to be camped.  No matter how many or how close your friends or family they can't quite go with you to the deep hurting places your heart has to go to heal.  Nor are they able to endure for the amount of time it takes. 

A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.

Proverbs 18:24

There are very few things that have consoled me over the past 18 months or so.  But one thing has.  Through all of the pain that I have endured I have definitely found myself wanting more of Jesus.  He has been my Friend that has stuck closer than a brother, my Companion of sorrows, my Healer of the broken heart.

And so, I just want to say this to you.  If you happen to be reading this and if you happen to be hurting.  If you just lost your job or your marriage or your child.  If your bank account is empty or strength is gone or your friends have left you high and dry.  I just want to tell you that though you might think you are at the end of your rope, in God's timeline this could just be the very beginning.  The beginning of a new story He desires to write on your heart and in your life.

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

Isaiah 43:19