The Gift in Grieving
In trying times of sickness and grief, it is not always easy to focus on God. Our focus is easily distracted by our pain, as we talked about in the last post, ‘Where is our focus?’
Liza R. shares her walk in grief and how she focused on God, who shows up. Liza is a small business owner and mother; she is also a gifted artist and encouraging woman. Liza persisted in focusing on God and now tells me her relationship with God is stronger than ever. Thank you, Liza, for sharing this part of your walk with us.
From Liza: The Gift in Grieving
Death’s inevitability is tucked away in a corner of my mind rarely visited. I’d been lucky to witness death coming only as a natural ending to a full and long life.
But one day it came, unbidden, after sporadic days of aches and pains dismissed and until it couldn’t be ignored anymore. The doctors give their verdict. Stage 4 cancer, a panel of doctors told my 57-year old husband as I sat stoically beside him. Life, the way we defined it, stopped.
I’ve had a close encounter with death, the most intimate kind one could ask for. One and a half years past the final goodbye, the pain remains deeply embedded. I saw the body fail-- lungs collapsed, punctured. Tumor-ridden, filled with fluid, battered with chemo, infused with immuno-therapeutic drugs yet, in that semi-lucid state, this body with an iron will mustered superhuman strength to battle a disease determined to take over a life not ready to leave this earthly plane.
Like him, I fought, orchestrating diet, drugs, 24-hour nursing care, a crew of doctors for five months with no care for rest. I stormed heaven’s door for a miracle. Then it was all over.
My days begin and end in tears for a loss I can’t contain.
I struggle to find Him. I wonder, where are You in this? Alone, embattled and in despair for a life I did not ask for. For the first time, I felt no love for the future.
His words, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13)
And so, I sought because I needed to live.
In the Word. In church. On YouTube. In books. GriefShare. Small groups. Podcasts. Friends. A friend. My journal. The vast, empty sky. Day after day after day.
Finally, one morning not too long ago, I felt Him close by, as if He was sitting right on the foot of my bed where I lay. My heart knew.
Death brought grief. It’s still there, like a stranger that decided to stay in my house. But in my encounter with grief I have finally understood what Psalm 91: 4 meant: “He will cover you with His feathers. Under His wings you will find refuge.”
I’ve experienced the love of my heavenly Father in the quiet
hours I have spent crying, journaling, praying. He found me, I found Him. He met me on my knees, and I surrendered into His open arms. I have learned to crave the time with Him, loving Him more and more as I began to understand the depth and complexity of His love. I’ve felt Him slowly mending the broken pieces of myself and transforming my heart into something new.
I’ve come to a place of needing Him, unable to let go of His hand, like His child that I was always meant to be.
