Grieving with God

“We would say death is…(long somewhat awkward pause)…imminent”. The hospice nurse gave me a knowing look, and I felt a heightening of a thousand emotions that had been swirling around my heart. Shallena - my bride of almost 21 years was dying.

The nurse left, and we were alone.  It was a rainy day in a rainy month – a fitting backdrop for the goodbye I didn’t want to say. Shallena was home on hospice.  Not eating, not drinking, essentially unable to move.  But hope is strong, and I found every possible reason to hope!

Just three nights ago I had crawled in her bed and snuggled up to her. For well over an hour and a half we talked. Well, I talked, and she responded with any way she could - nonspecific vocalizations at times, wiggly toes at times, whole body wiggles for the really important ones. I told her I had not given up on her, I told her we were thinking about doing a children’s church in Crestline (wiggly toes and vocalizations), I told her I thought maybe I shouldn’t snuggle with her as it might be uncomfortable (full on fit!!), I told her I was understanding the children more, and I realized Caleb needed extra attention as he is only six (contented vocalization and soft wiggly toes). She stayed awake far longer than expected, and we just talked over our life.

Now she was really dying, and for our last afternoon together I read her the sturdy Scriptures – “I am the resurrection and the life”, “He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty”, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble”.  I sang/cried her the goodbye song I had written and sang/cried 23 years earlier when she was leaving for Albania.  I held her hand and gave her morphine to try and ease her breathing. What is the right way to walk your love into the shadow of death?

When she had breathed her last, I felt something snap inside. Far below the level of conscious thought or reason, raw grief came pouring out like a flood I could not have expected or desired. At first it was hot anger - a relative stranger to me – just burning and seething for a few minutes.   Then in notes that I would never want to repeat, I gave voice to my grief. This went on for about 20 minutes, then I sat next to her dead body and just cried. I didn’t know what to do! How can you say goodbye to the best part of yourself? Especially when you have failed at love in so many ways you will never have again on this earth?

The next days/weeks/months brought all of the emotions of a mixed up basket case….

“Okay, a new day…The Lord gave, the Lord took away, May the name of the Lord be praised.” Sun's up, feeling a little bit normal, and maybe even a twinkle of hope. Then I walk into the closet, and there is Shallena’s bright pink Adidas shirt that always made both of us smile because she wore it for exciting days – hikes, rockhounding, and camping!!!  “She’ll never wear it again…boo-hoo-hoo…” I close the bedroom door to try and shield the kids a bit as I wallow around in my lost uselessness.

That little scene has played over and over again in the last couple months.

While nobody escapes the pain of grief, we don’t love to embrace it. It hurts.

I think I trust God in all this, but there are definitely unresolved parts, too.  The word that I think best describes my state of mind is “lost”.  I feel like I have lost part of myself – the best part, and I don’t know who I am any longer.  I accept the sovereignty and love of God, but I am trying to figure out who I am now? Part of me is missing.

I have also noticed that we are more comfortable in a room full of fake laughter than a room full of raw pain - but we all have raw pain. God has raw pain. Why do we try to gloss over our reality for a show that does nothing to help us?

I think it is because most of us are trying to live in functional denial of our mortality, but that does us no good. We know we are going to the grave - why do we try to deny it? Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared for that trip?

But I think there is a bigger opportunity in this grief, than just honest melancholy.  An experience that goes further than feelings, and an understanding that can only truly be experienced through significant loss.  I am just starting to understand it.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” Psalm 34:18.  Why is God close to the brokenhearted?  Doesn’t He love all the same?  I think He does. Then why a special closeness?  I’m sure there are many possible answer to this, but here is mine.

God is close to the brokenhearted because He is brokenhearted.  In all the vast animate creation, no being loves more than God – the great “I am” is “Love”. He doesn’t practice love or bestow and remove it - He is it.  As sin has frustrated His creation, He has lost those He loves – more than any other being. God has more “love with no place to go” than any of us.  I have lost one very special love this year – God has lost millions.  It turns out that sorrow and pain are very reasonable responses to the havoc sin has reeked all over our world. Jesus is described in Isaiah 53 as a “man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief”.  I used to read the Bible and hear a lot of anger in the Old Testament.  Now I hear a brokenhearted God saying, “Why will you die when I could help you?” 

“How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I treat you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboyim? [cities near Sodom and Gomorrah].  My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused.” Hosea 11:8. Here is brokenhearted God suffering agonizing grief. He is losing His love…again...and He is not losing His love to a short sleep which will end in resurrection, immortality, and eternal bliss.  She is not holding His hand as He sings to her – she is cursing Him to His face as the pale mottling of death creeps over her brow.  He is losing His love forever…again…and it hurts...again.   

Hear Him again in Ezekiel, “Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, people of Israel?” 33:11.

When the “man of sorrows” God came to walk our sod, we hear the same cry – the same love.  “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” Matthew 23:37. Here is brokenhearted God clothed in humanity mourning over another love that is lost.  The grief of God can only be appreciated as we comprehend the love of God. He loves so much – He has lost so much.  What does God do with all of His love that has no place to go?

“Jesus wept” John 11:35. Deeply significant is this pain.  I’m sure that Jesus laughed – even  though I don’t remember reading it – but I know He cried.  He was still losing those He loved. It is easy to appreciate that there is a lot to weep about in this world.

As God has to give up those who reject Him – He grieves and mourns – as only a loving God can.  Some people call this His wrath, I call it His love.  Romans 1 describes this process in painful detail.

Now I know somebody will disagree with the idea of any brokenness or strong emotions in Almighty God - that He is so perfect, powerful and awesome that He cannot be affected by our insignificant pain. To this thought, I respectfully reply – Hogwash!  This is not the God of the Bible – especially not as revealed in Jesus.  He knows us, He loves us, He feels our pain, He mourns with us, and grieves when we reject Him.  He has eaten with us, wept with us, lost with us, bled with us, and died with us.  Our sin and brokenness have broken God’s heart.  He has lost more than any in this great controversy, and in His big omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent brokenness, He is near – right here near!!! – to those who are brokenhearted.

One day He will wipe our tears away and make all things new.  Today He weeps with us.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalms 34:18