I had the privilege to offering a seminar at a large conference last week for spiritual directors. The title of my seminar was: Swimming in a River of Grief and Loss. As I think of the events of this week, the tragedy in Boston, and today the explosion in Texas where so many lost their lives, I can but imagine the place of loss and grief for so many who lost loved ones. In a very real way, the entire nation feels elements of grief and loss at the face of this senseless evil in Boston and the tragedy of the explosion in a fertilizer factory.
C.S. Lewis writes in A Grief Observed, “No one ever told me that grief was so much like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.”
Though sometimes people use the words interchangeably, there is a difference between LOSS and GRIEF. Loss (not death) is the “normative” metaphor for understanding those experiences in human life that produce grief.
We begin life “attached”- at birth. Our first experience of separation happens when we are born. The genesis of grief lies in the inevitability of both attachment and separation for the sustenance and development of human life. Life is filled with separation/attachment… And grief is inevitable because loss is part of life. Our experiences of grief in adult life are often linked to early experiences of loss in childhood. Death is the ultimate expression of our finitude, our mortality and can be one of the greatest losses we encounter in life. Surely those who have lost loved ones in a bombing or fire or explosion know this.
Losses connect us to other losses! Some losses are particular to certain periods in life. Our emotional reaction to loss is GRIEF.
Have you heard the story of the little girl sent out on an errand in the neighborhood by her mother? When the child was late in returning, her mother asked her for an explanation- where had she been?
The little girl explained that a playmate of hers down the street had fallen and broken her doll and that she had stopped to help her.
“What were you able to do to mend the broken doll?” her mother asked.
“We couldn’t fix the doll, Mommy. So I just sat down and helped her cry.” (Charles Allen, Guidepost 1979)
There are times when we cannot solve or fix the loss or pain, but we can show our love by sharing in the grief. Have you experienced what that little girl did- she was present with her friend as she mourned…all she did was sit and help her cry!
In one of the creeds in our Book of Confession we affirm the truth, “In life and death we belong to God!” Scripture tells us htat Jesus was a man of sorrow and acquainted with grief. He knows the pain of the grief our nation faces, those families face, as they have lost their loved ones and as we as a nation shake our heads and feel the ache of the world in which we live.
And so we must feel our grief and look to the God of hope. It is a delicate balance, isn’t it?- living an authentic life and letting ourselves mourn and holding and claiming the truth of our faith- the Easter truth, the event that the cross and the empty tomb all point us to. We mourn- an expression or our grief. We question? We cry? We feel deeply and we feel badly and we open ourselves to the God of all comfort to come. God comes by His Spirit with a balm…sometimes a whisper, sometimes a word, sometimes His Word in Scripture to be a mooring in our places of grief and loss.
What losses have you known? How do you grieve?
Can you invite the community- through your small group or prayer request, or in some way to be with you pray with you and help you know you belong…in life and death, you belong!
The following anonymous poem speaks of swimming in a river of grief.
May it be an encouragement to you.
My grief is like river
I have to let it flow,
But I myself determine
Just where the banks will go.
Some days the current takes me
In waves of guilt and pain,
But there are always quiet pools
Where I can rest again.
I crash on rocks of anger
My faith seems faith indeed,
But there are other swimmers
Who know that what I need
Are loving hands to hold me
When the waters are too swift,
And someone kind to listen
When I just seem to drift.
Grief’s river is a process
Of relinquishing the past.
By swimming in hope’s channels
I’ll reach the shore at last.