Grief... A Troublesome Creature

... we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. (1 Thessalonians 4:13)

I've read this verse many times over the past almost 9 months... thought about it far more... talked about it to a lesser extent... even preached from this passage once.

It was the theme of Luke's committal service.

Its message has in many ways become our life's motif.

Grieving with hope.

Though I am holding on to the hope that is promised, I have not "felt" very hopeful of late.

I guess that's part of what happens with the loss of a child.

This grief thing is a troublesome creature.

It forces me like nothing else ever has to live in the tension of unbelief and belief, uncertainty and certainty, sadness and gladness, brokenness and redemption, bitter and sweet, anger and calm, fear and courage, weakness and strength, despair and hope, darkness and light.    

This concept of grieving with hope is rife with paradoxical realities.

I find that speaking and thinking about our loss is both cleansing and caustic. It just depends on the day... the moment really. 

The tears that fall have the same effect... they open and purify the wound but they also prompt the realization that this wound will always weep because there is no getting over an injury like this.

The reminders of shattered dreams and hoped-for-things are all too frequent. They are as certain and unwanted as taxes coming due. They are anticipated and dreaded like a trip to the dentist. They lurk and then surprise like a thief. They taunt and they haunt. 

This grief thing is a troublesome creature.

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;

heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.

My soul also is greatly troubled. 

But You, O Lord - how long?

(Psalm 6:2-3)