Since my husband’s “great escape” to heaven, I’ve been invited to several grief support groups. I’ve declined them all because, right up front, I decided to escape from the mindset that I had to grieve and feel sorry for myself. Though I knew I would miss my sweetheart the day he left and every day thereafter, I knew I had a choice to make. I could wallow in tears or be grateful for the years we had together and carry on. Going to a grief support group, I surmised, would only introduce me to other widows and widowers who were still living in their grief beyond, what I thought, was a reasonable "grieving” date. I didn’t want to hang out with those “poor souls”. I had arisen from death to life, taken off my grave clothes and put on a garment of praise and joy. I made a point to smile more than I frowned and to LIVE on
A few weeks ago, I saw that my church has a new “Faith and Grief” Support Group. I dismissed any interest to attend it for the same above reasons. But then I felt a tap, tap, tap on my heart’s door and I started getting those “God” nudges and THAT whisper again. “Donna, be Me!” Oh. My. Goodness. Seriously, God? Once again, my Master Coach was impressing upon me to get out of the “It’s all about me” to “It’s about being the hands, feet AND even the mouthpiece of Jesus.”
So, as a full-fledged veteran widow for eight years, I decided to go to the meeting in “stealth” mode. Be undercover, so to speak. If asked, I'd tell my “victory” story, impress others with my warrior-esque persona and show them all how to move on. Then that ever-so-subtle voice whispered in my ears: “Stop, look and listen, Donna! It's about Me!" I expected to see mostly older folks,, but to my surprise, there were many younger widows, widowers, daughters, sons, sisters, and brothers who had lost loved ones. HELLO, Wake-Up Call! Young, in-between, and old die and all ages can experience great loss.
We were all asked to tell who we are and why we were there. At my table, a young wife and mom of two young sons, responded in tears “The only thing I can get out today is my 40-year-old husband, without any warning, died suddenly last month." She is now having to hold it all together for her young family. There were others – all ages with their own set of circumstances that didn’t need to hear “Time to move on!" They needed tender love and sensitivity, and in the process, realize they are so much wiser than they realize and they are still here for a reason and God has a plan for them.
Because I heeded the nudge of God to go, be and do, I learned that all of our journeys are not the same. I learned we all heal differently. I learned that some pick themselves up by the bootstraps and in spite of the pain, they carry on. I’ve also learned from the Ecclesiastes 3:4 “There’s a time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.” We don’t all have to fit in the same mold. Some will take longer to recover. For those, Lord, help me to sincerely be your hands extended, reaching out in love and comfort. You said in Matthew 5:4 “Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted.” My hand is raised to be more loving and understanding and to comfort those who mourn and walk with them hand-in-hand until they are able to trade their ashes for beauty and receive the oil of joy instead of the spirit of heaviness. (Isaiah 61:3)
I learned to never judge someone else’s grief or their life or the time it takes for them to heal. In the meantime, I will pray for helping hands to help the single mom or the single dad that is raising their children alone now. I will pray for a mom or dad to show up for the daughter or son who lost one or both of their parents. And, if it’s for me to respond, may I jump up with great joy and enthusiasm and say “Pick me! Pick me!” By the way, I’m now on the Faith and Grief Team. Who knew why I waited so long to give others what I’ve received? Oh, I know. God did!
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