“So bow down under God’s strong hand;
then when the time comes, God will lift you up. Since God cares for you, let
Him carry all your burdens and worries.”
(1 Peter 5: 6-7 The Voice)
Over three years ago, my heart began
breaking as my parents and Alan struggled with illnesses and then death. This
week, the second anniversary of Alan’s death, was difficult. I thought it would
be easier than last year but grief doesn’t watch the calendar. This morning I
found a writing from a few months ago which describes my continuing journey.
The illnesses and deaths of my
parents and husband, left my heart in tatters. I limped along with just enough
strength to sustain me but not enough to live fully.
Over time, God pulled the shattered
pieces together to cover the voids left by their absences. Just as it seemed
that my heart was healing, a memory, memorable date, picture, or song ripped
the scabs apart. Grief returned as blood and tears flowed.
Gradually, new scabs formed. The
process quickened as new memories helped fill the holes. God’s strength and
comfort cushioned my bleeding heart.
Days, weeks, months, and years
passed. As my heart mended, tears slowed. Loneliness would slip away for a
while. I felt almost normal again. But then I would be battered like a violent
storm. Often with no warning, extreme pain clutched my fragile heart in a vise.
For a while, I felt as splintered
and damaged as when grief first attacked me. However, with each temporary
setback, recovery didn’t take quite as long.
Short bursts of happiness showed up.
Laughter mixed with tears. Kindness, compassion, and hugs boosted the healing.
At one time, I wondered if joy would
ever return, but one day it happened. Joy from God returned in hysterical
laughter with a dear friend. Surprisingly, tears of happiness ran down my
cheeks. She had often cried with me and in years past, laughed with me. That
day we enjoyed life like it used to be.
That awesome time brought revelation
to me. I was indeed mending. I knew my still fragile heart was stronger and
starting to go forward.
As my wounded heart slowly heals,
God has increased my compassion for others who are suffering-especially those
facing their own grief. I never would have chosen a ministry to the grieving
but that is what I have been given. He knew that reaching out to others mends
my own heart.
Faithful Father, thank you for the
comfort you have given me. Guide me as I use my pain to comfort others. Amen
