When disaster, loss or severe illness strikes, the first thing our grieving hearts usually ask is “Why?” Why is this happening to me? Why did this happen to my loved one? Why did this happen now? While we may never receive an answer from that nagging question, (or a satisfying one, at least), there are things we can learn from those disasters and the grief that often accompanies them.
~ Life is hard. Really hard. Sometimes it
doesn’t seem like it’s worth living. Sometimes all we seem to be able to do is
cope. A friend of mine divulged her innermost feelings after learning she had a
brain aneurysm in a dangerous place in her brain and had to undergo risky, new
surgery to correct it. (Which, by the way, involved removing her right eye
without damaging the optic nerve, clamping the artery behind it in her brain,
and reinserting the eye.) “If I didn’t believe in God, love Him, trust Him, and
know that He was in control, I’d commit suicide. What’s the point of living
this hell if there is no point? I’d end it.” In a nutshell, God was the only
thing that kept her going. And she survived to spread the word about His
greatness during the ordeal.
~ We have less control over our lives
than we thought. In
fact, we have very little control. On any given day we could awaken to
disaster. Yesterday we were vibrant and full of health. (Or at least we thought
we were.) Today we get a call from our doctor telling us we have Stage 4, inoperable
cancer. We visit our doctor, who looks at us with a pained expression and says,
“You have six months. I would suggest you get your affairs in order.” Or we get
a visit from a policeman and the police department’s resident grief
psychologist, telling us there’s been an accident…and your mind goes number
after they tell you your daughter’s not coming home. Ever.
Realizing you
lack control can at first be unnerving. But it can also be liberating, knowing
there is Someone in control, and He knows exactly what’s going on. We suddenly
understand that our life is really not our own, and that’s not so bad. When
we’re allowing Him to order our lives, His way of having us live gives us more
freedom to relax and enjoy the years we—and our loved ones— have been given. It
is a simple faith that allows Someone else to worry about the big picture
instead of us stressing over it.
~ We learn to be thankful. Thankful for what we have. Thankful for
what we had. Thankful for what we had that we didn’t realize we had. (That,
unfortunately, may initially add to
our sorrow, because we no longer have it, though.) If we do not allow our
hearts to become bitter, we can have hearts overflowing with love and
thanksgiving. We usually love better and more deeply and have more compassion
for our fellow man.
Recently, after
teaching at a writers group, one of the members said to me, “I hope I don’t
embarrass you by telling you this, but it’s so much fun to watch your eyes when
you’re talking. They sparkle, they’re so expressive and bright.” I told her
that her comment wasn’t embarrassing, and that I very much appreciated it. Then
I added, “Actually, I appreciate it more than you can imagine. When we took
family pictures seven months after our daughter Victoria died, I looked at those
pictures and noticed how flat and pained my eyes looked. They looked dead. And I
wondered if there would ever be any life in them again. So, thank you, you have no idea how much that comment means to me.”
I am thankful.
~ We learn that pain, loss and grief
sometimes make us better, stronger people. Our faith deepens, our love for God magnifies, and, in
turn, He magnifies Himself in our lives.
Time after time
I talk to people who have suffered immeasurable pain, loss and suffering, and most
of them say the same thing: “I was so close to God during that time, it was
wonderful. And I am so much closer to Him now.” One man stood up and boldly
told a group I attended about the horrendous head pain he experienced following
his brain tumor surgery and recovery. Then he added, “I was never so close to
the Lord as I was then.” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he added, “I wish I
could go back there.”
Several in our
group nodded, with recognition and agreement flickering in our eyes. We were a
little like-minded fraternity of grateful sufferers.
~ Finally, we often learn that there is
evil in the world, and there are evil forces that want to
destroy us emotionally, physically and spiritually. Your pain, suffering and grief may be
collateral damage of the war raging between the spiritual forces in the heavens
and on Earth. Don’t ever forget we are living on a battle ground.
Undoubtedly, you
can think of more things learned through suffering, pain, grief and loneliness.
What can you add to this list?
Next week:
Finding light in dark, windowless rooms; or another way to look at the darkness
of fear and grief.
Until next week,
Thanks for
joining me!
Blessings,
Andrea
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/15390598@N08/4840832633">Roadside</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">(license)</a>
No comments:
Post a Comment