Don’t be naïve! Once you begin to rummage around in your soul you may discover that it runs deeper than you think.
Just listen to the words of Mel Williams, pastor of Watts Street Baptist Church: “A few years ago I was invited to go talk with a class of divinity students about what are the central concerns I deal with as a pastor. I reflected on my work, and I told the students that the primary issue I deal with as a pastor is grief.” Mel writes, “On any given Sunday most of us come in the door carrying some kind of grief.”
And he’s right. It is impossible to escape grief. Grief is sewn into the very fabric of life.
Now you may be thinking, “Not me,” but don’t kid yourself. Grief is the normal, human reaction to loss. And it is universal. Life is full of goodbyes. All of us lose things that we value or love. And when something or someone we love is taken away—whether it is a friend, a job, a neighbor, a pet, a parent, a grandparent, a marriage, a long-awaited raise, an unborn child, our independence, our health, our ability to drive—whenever anything we love is taken away, we grieve. The truth is, none of us gets through life without having to say “goodbye” and as Rev. Williams reminds us, “Saying goodbye means grief work.”
For some of us the grief is obvious. You can see it in the tickle of tears running down our face. For others, the grief is hidden, guarded, or stuffed out of sight. Many of us have learned to lock our grief away in some hidden corner of our heart. But just because we don’t see it, don’t talk about it, or don’t allow ourselves to feel it, doesn’t mean that it has gone away. It’s still there and by hiding it all we’ve done is stored a time-bomb in our chests.
Maybe that is the reason that Jesus said, “Blessed are those who allow themselves to grieve, for they shall be comforted.” We simply can’t find comfort for feelings we never allow to see the light of day.
But remember, there is no single, right way to grieve. Everyone’s grief is different. As Kenneth C. Haugk says in one of his helpful little books, “No one else will grieve exactly like you.” One of the reasons for that is that everyone’s loss is different.
When my grandfather Parrish died, my brothers and sisters and I all lost a grandfather, but all of our griefs were different. For me, one of my very earliest memories is running over to my grandfather and walking with him down to his dog kennel. I remember going inside the shed with him and smelling the sweet aroma of the 50-pound bags of dog food. In the evenings, I would sit with him when he smoked his pipe and at Christmas he always shared his chocolate-covered cherries with me. He died thirty years ago, but I still have one of his grey work shirts hanging in my closet.
All of us as grandchildren lost a grandfather, but all of our losses were different.
Don’t assume that your grief will look or feel like another’s.
The important thing is to find a way of unlocking your grief. Some do that through tears. Others do it through talking with friends, family members, pastors, or counselors. Some will keep journals, write letters, sing, or pray. Others will read, paint, exercise or knit. Because the great danger is keeping things dammed up inside, healing will come as we find ways of giving expression to all of the feelings of grief that we have tucked away inside.
Ultimately, it may not matter whether we run it out, talk it out, write it out, scream it out, or cry it out. The important thing is that we honor the necessity of grief. One of the signs of Jesus’ emotional health is that he allowed himself to cry. Many of us know by heart that shortest of New Testament verses: “Jesus wept.”
So please, don’t minimize the importance of grief. Don’t assume too quickly that this article is for someone else. Grief runs deeper than you think.
Gary Robbins, Pastor
Greene Memorial United Methodist Church
