Articles
Overcoming Grief - 2
Grief is a horrible feeling. It is overwhelming sadness, a sense that life will never be the same, and happiness will never be regained. It is complete disorientation. It is inability to function due to mental confusion, lack of concentration and apathy. It is loss of appetite, insomnia and exhaustion. It is inward withdrawal, obliviousness to the outside world and deafness even to sympathetic voices. It is anguish, a deep soul-ache that isolates, torments and extinguishes all joy and hope.
And for these reasons, grief cannot be allowed to remain unabated in our hearts. The above description is fertile soil for bitterness of heart, evil thoughts and malaise that repulses others, thus creating a self-sustaining cycle of ever-deepening darkness. In short, a life consumed by grief is toxic, unsuited to the development of godliness.
Once again, I realize this may sound harsh, especially to those who are in the throes of “You don’t know what I’m going through” sorrow. But let’s think further.
The elevation of God’s will. Many things can cause grief in this life; the most obvious and painful is the death of a loved one. But we can also grieve the loss of a pet or a friend or a job. Just about any major life-change, past regret, personal failure, etc. can send one into an emotional tailspin. But whatever we lose in this life, and whatever unpleasantness it brings, we must consciously strive to accept God’s will.
David’s loss of his illegitimate son was specifically ordained by God (2 Sam 12:14). “David therefore pleaded with God for the child” (12:16); he fasted and prayed for a week hoping that God would change His mind. He did not. When he was informed that the child had died, “David arose … washed and anointed himself, and changed his clothes; and he went into the house of the Lord and worshiped” (12:20). This story is not a template for how long to grieve, but it does say something about our attitude toward God’s will. God had answered David; the answer was no; and David accepted the answer. If God doesn’t intervene and change our circumstance, we must accept His will and move forward.
The acceptance of life’s inequities. Sometimes grief is disguised anger. A trial or tragedy that we never expected or wanted may intrude into our lives. Perhaps a spouse has left or a child has been born with a permanent disability. Deep inside we may be angry that God has allowed this to happen or will not rectify it as we wish. It is axiomatic that we live in a “fallen” or imperfect world. It is also true that great men of faith have struggled with the various trials that have befallen them. Scripture repeats the theme that “time and chance happen to them all” (Ecc 9:11); that the thing we fear the most may occur (Job 3:25); that “one dies in his full strength, being wholly at ease and secure … another man dies in the bitterness of his soul, never having eaten with pleasure” (Job 21:23-25). We may feel, as did Job, that “my eye will never again see good” (7:7).
We will never be able to fully make sense of this feature of our world. But what makes coping harder is to believe that no one has suffered as we have. Some see themselves as uniquely burdened, and this isolationist point of view magnifies pain and anger. Take a closer look around: many people have suffered worse things and are handling it with grace and trust in God. God’s revealed truths give us perspective, and that perspective helps keep grief in context.
God will provide a way forward. It is hard to fathom what Israel must have felt when God took Moses from them at Mt. Nebo. They had already lost Aaron and Miriam, and they faced the gargantuan task of invading and conquering Canaan. “And the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days” (Dt 34:8). Perhaps some of the weeping was born of anxiety as they now faced an uncertain future without the leaders who had guided them for a generation.
How obscure the future must have seemed. But as events moved forward and God’s will unfolded, Israel gradually moved past the trauma of leadership transition. But it’s always this way, is it not? We are comfortable with today, but tomorrow is fraught with uncertainty. Except for God.
We must not allow unassuaged grief to undermine our engagement in life and negate our usefulness to God. The pain of the present will gradually give way to the possibilities of the future – if we let it. Our purpose here is to glorify and serve God, but this can be derailed by distress over earthly concerns. The paralyzing burden of grief is all the more reason to meditate on Paul’s overarching outlook: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Rom 8:18).
