Dealing With Grief

 Often times when I write to process I write in third person or from a realistic fiction perspective. 

So here's an example of that and something I'm processing tonight.

There. She sighed to herself as she said aloud. "All together in one place." She had a large glass cube on her lap. Inside this large glass cube she placed all the memories, all the trinkets, the cards, the pictures and videos of past and present, and journal entries that helped her remember them. This made her happy. It was a beautiful box full of beautiful things. All in one spot. 

Just because they were in a different country and she hadn't really seen or talked to them in years didn't mean that she would forget them. They had been some of her best friends and she wasn't going to let an ocean and lack of communication keep them apart. And now she had new videos to add along with the memories. 

She would pause often to sit down, open the box, and look through the pictures, feel the trinkets, and laugh at the many memories. Then after some tears she would put everything carefully back, put the lid firmly back in place, and stand up to keep going. 

As she walked she always clung to the box. Just because she had lost them, and lost communication with them didn't mean she had to lose all ties with them. She would dream of them. Seeing them again, being reunited, crying, and laughing together once more. Each time when she woke up and realized she was not with them it hurt her heart deeply. But she liked the dreams because that was the only time she got to see her best friends' faces. Some of the dreams she would write down, carefully penning every detail she could remember and then she would add that to the box. She put much laughter and tears from the past, and hope for the future into that box. 

She walked down the path she was on clinging to that box.   

One night something happened that felt as though her heart went through a small tornado and made her wonder if the friends that she missed so much, if they missed her too. Did they think about her at all? Did they want to see her again? Were they angry with her? Did they like looking through their memories together as much as she did? She had always pictured a big happy reunion, but she realized this might not be the case if they didn't miss her too. 

She was dazed as she sat down in the middle of the path and began to cry. Her heart was hurting. She longed for the simple days, the laughter, the friendship, truly understanding each other, and the long talks. 

Her Brother, who lead her, walked with her, and held her hand as they walked down the path together, sat next to her. He held her as she cried. He had been talking to her, asking her to surrender the box to Him. Which she had... a little bit here and there. For as she walked and clung to the box, the edges began to grow sharper the tighter she clung to it, and they began to cut her arms as she clung to it. 

She was clinging to it now and rocking back and forth as she sobbed. Long open gashes on her arms were the result of her clinging so tightly. 

Tears ran down her Brother's face as He whispered to her, "Please, please give me the box. Release the pain."

She screamed, echoing the sound of her wounded heart, "I don't want to let them go!!!"

"Please" He whispered again.

She gasped trying to catch her breath, "Maybe, if I don't let them go they'll come back to me!" She bit back a sob. "Maybe if I hold on to the memories they won't really leave me." She cried out once more, her heart heavy with grief. 

Her Brother said nothing but gathered her up, box and all and held her close. He rocked her back and forth whispering gently to her. "Breathe now, I'm right here, breathe." 

Soon her tears slowed and her breathing became more normal. 

"It is hard to let go, Brother, it hurts." She said softly leaning against Him. 

"I know. I know, but can I tell you something now?"

She nodded as she loosened her grip on the glass box.

"Don't be afraid to let go. Father is in control. You know that He is trustworthy and you can trust Him. You are not in control of the future." He paused for a moment to look into her face.

She was listening, and quiet, though some tears continued to fall down her face. 

He stroked her hair and whispered softly, "Truthfully whether you let go or hold on, it only affects you." 

She looked down at the box, wet with tears. "So, Abba is in control and I can trust Him because His plans are good and He loves me and my friends, right?"

Her Brother gave a small smile and nodded. "That's right."

"And He already holds me and my friends, right?"

"Yes. Always."

She then looked up at Him with a question in her eyes. "What did you mean it only affects me?"

He nodded. "Will you give me one of hands?"

She shifted the box to her lap and held her Brother's hand. He squeezed it gently and then turned her arm over and traced the wounds on the other side from the glass box.

She gasped and frowned, a cry catching in her throat. "How?" 

"When you cling to the box, putting your hopes, desires, time, time looking backward into the past, and time looking forward hoping towards the future, and you cling to something instead of clinging to Father, it hurts you. Whether you cling to bitterness, fear, anger, sadness, unforgiveness, longing, anything that is not Father you only hurt yourself. Clinging and obsession doesn't change the future, and it doesn't change other people. Just you. Father is the only one you should put your hope in. He is in control."

She nodded looking down at the box. Then she looked back up at her Brother. "I can't let go of it by myself. I want it too much. I need your help."

Her Brother smiled. "Will you let me help you surrender it to Father?"

She nodded. "Yes. Please."

That is where I'm at right now. Letting go of people I love hurts. But I'm not in control. God is. When I put my hopes, and time, and too much thought into that "box" it turns into idolatry because I'm putting it above God in my mind and that's not only unhealthy but it's disobedience. God wants me to trust Him with what I hold important because He holds it all. He gave me those friends, and those memories. He holds them. Even when it felt like I was holding on to them with all the memories and everything, that's only what it felt like. God has held both of us the entire time, and He will continue to. I have to trust Him. What is the alternative? I've tried carrying it all by myself. It doesn't work. I tried doing that when I was nine, carrying it all by myself. God did not create humans to carry everything all on our own. We're literally not designed for it. Look at what stress does to our bodies! I don't know why we think we can carry the weight of anything by ourselves when we rely on God for our next breath! It is maybe not easier, but better to trust God, the creator of our entire lives, with our lives, our futures, and our friends and family. 

Dealing with grief, processing letting go and surrendering, and mourning the loss of time is important. We need to do that but we can't get stuck in the emotions. That's dangerous. We have to be able to surrender and move forward. We can only do that through the power of God. 

I praise God, several times when I was going through times of deep grief, to the point that I felt as though I couldn't get off of the floor, I had friends that pointed me back to God. They reminded me that I wasn't going through these hard times for no reason, but that God was using these circumstances for kingdom work.   

One last thing, back home there was a phrase, instead of promising something we would say, "By the power of God." With things as simple as, "I'll see you tomorrow!" and the other person would respond "By the power of God!" To bigger things like "Will we have enough food and water this week?" "Yes by the power of God." In this way, sewn into culture, we were constantly reminded that it was not us but God who is in control and taking care of us.