I wish my mood matched the weather today. Outside my window sunlight is dancing through green and gold. Blue sky yawns; clouds pass and sigh. The sun and the breeze pull life along like a toy on a string. I want to dance in this warmth, but my heart is heavy — weighed down with grief for a friend going through a sorrow so deep, I can’t muster the strength to imagine it. She has to bury her newborn son.
I want to think about something else. Anything. I try to distract myself with chores and lists, but thoughts and words tumble through my mind and come careening out, spilling all over my good intentions. I can’t continue. I think about the pain she’s going through, and I fall to my knees and cry for her, with her, though she doesn’t know it now.
I want to push sorrow aside and continue on with my day. It hurts too much to sit with these feelings of grief and fear…opening up old wounds.
But sometimes we need to press into the pain, no matter how much it hurts. We need to let the wound open up and expose it to the air. I feel vulnerable. The mother-heart is wrenched and twisted with grief for another. My soul is filled with a familiar ache, and I am afraid.
But then He whispers to me, reminding me of His love reaching through the pain. He shows me the garden of Gethsemane — tears and sweat and blood, anguish so deep. Praying for that cup to pass, yet embracing it in full obedience, He had nothing to block the pain, no one to offer relief. Heaving heavy beams upon His beaten frame, He went willingly. Nails driven through flesh, his heart broke wide open as Love poured out for all, even for those who drove the spikes into his hands and feet. They couldn’t take His life; He gave it…for them…for me…for you. True love is costly.
He reminds me of the glory that comes through pain. Resurrection cannot happen if there is nothing dead to revive. Hope reigns, and death is not the end. We treasure the now because we know each moment is sacred. There is a still sweetness that comes with sorrow, along with the peace that He makes all things new.
Would you join me in lifting up a grieving family? Here is their story: