Earlier this month, I stopped by to see Nancy's oncologist to thank her, leave her a note, and to claim some more "closure." We greeted one another with surprising warmth, including an unprofessional hug. She told me that after she had picked a residency in oncology she lost her mother to cancer. So, we shared more than I had realized.
"Just keep getting out of bed everyday," she encouraged me. Her compassion touched me. But I didn't think that getting out of bed was going to be an issue for me. I was still working off a "transition list" and there was still a lot of incentive to keep going.
Well, that was then. The current "pain phase" could create the kind of paralysis Melanie foresaw. The idea of staying upstairs with the blinds down has crossed my mind a couple of times this week. I am not sure the universe would crash if I stayed in bed for most of a day, BUT going fetal for a month or so does not really seem like a real way to push through this part of the process.
What is going on? Well, I am very aware that I have completed a grueling phase of life. That I am spent. But there is more. There is pointlessness. I have talked about it before, but I do sense a real void. It is not all bad. There is joy and relief in being able to accurately announce "mission accomplished." We have cared for Nancy well and she is now safe at home.
Now I am just not sure what can justify getting back on the race track again. Yep, I am a church kid, and I know that I was serving God as I cared for my dear wife. He is still around, calling me to serve HIM. But, He hasn't really given me any new marching orders yet. So, there is nothing to move past the sense of loss that fills me each time I return from walking the dog. And I run to aimless, worthless regions of the universe to dull the pain.
So, what is the calling to one who grieves? Getting out of bed is probably good. It is time to return to work. To try to fill each day with Kingdom Labor is the call of His servants. But there is more. To wait, to mourn, to listen, to read the Psalms and expect that He will slowly, gently lead me toward the next phase of the journey.
Last year at this time, Nancy and I were asking HIM to show us what was next with Leah in Fulton, and KJ nearing graduation. HE took us down an unexpected path that we could not avoid. I am sure that the next phase of the mission will be equally surprising, equally unavoidable, equally of HIM.
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6 comments:
Dan,
I don't think you can really "push through this part of the process". Unfortunately, no one can speed their way through grief - as much as we would like to. I think some days the fetal position - should any of us have the luxury to do so (you do apart from the dog- and you have people around enough to take care of Fido) - is exactly where we need to be...being cradled by our Father in His huge hands. Live the grief as much as you live the joy. Feel it. It's OK to hurt. God is in it taking care of you.
Bless you friend.
Kathryn
I agree. There is no timetable for grief and adjustment. When we miscarried our first child, I learned that grief is intensely personal, even though it is universal. I learned that no one could rush me through it and that it would affect me in different ways at different times of my life. I don't have the raw sadness today I did 28years ago, when it first happened, but I do feel a corresponding echo in my own heart when I hear of similar pain happening to families here and now, and I feel a bond with them when I offer my support.
In our church family are many who live with the old news of losing their husbands, wives, children, moms, dads, siblings. But I am certain they still deal daily with the fallout. In private ways, in various circumstances, they keep going. These may be the ones who would be willing to talk with you and encourage you with the help they themselves received from God. As Kathryn said, it's okay to feel the hurt as much as the joy, and to grieve in whatever helpful way you can.
There will always be people who are surprised at how you process your pain---I know we had people who were puzzled and a little impatient when, months later, they saw I was pensive over the sight of babies in their mothers' arms. I knew they thought I "should" be over it, but the truth is, God brings the healing, in His own way and time, and He lets us then use what we learn to come alongside others in pain and give them a strong arm to lean on while they catch their breaths.
It may be that you will become a prayer warrior for similarly bereaved, overlooked people, because you will have an understanding that has come from walking the same path and feeling the same sort of void. We know Jesus, the Man of Sorrows, and well-acquainted with suffering, will be in it all, taking care of you and using every bit of your/your family's grief for good in ways we can't even guess at now.
Dan,
Thanks for sharing your pain and struggles with us. Have you "listened" to C.S. Lewis's "A Grief Observed" yet or again? He may walk with you up and down some steep rocky trails.
Be blessed in your pain and often reminded of our Man of Sorrows, what a name.
In Him,
Ken Morey
We didn't have consistent internet access over the last 2 months, so today I spent about an hour reading and crying over your blog since the late July entries. My heart grieves for you and your family and yet I was so encouraged by the honest faith shown in our Savior. You have given me fresh courage to trust Him.
May the Lord give you great courage to keep the spokes going forward and great renewal as He carries you through.
Warmly, Alicia and Patrick Havens
Dan,
Thank you so much for your honesty and for sharing your journey. May you know the embrace, the presence of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I'm praying. It's a blessing to read your blog and participate by prayer.
Paige
Dan,
When I read your post, it was like traveling back in time 15 years. About a year and half following my first husband’s death (note: I still had a five-year-old at home, so part of my service was obvious), I was chomping at the bit, seeking the “next thing” that God wanted me to do, as we had oriented our lives around serving Christ. But a wise widow likened losing my husband (even 18 months into it) to having been in a serious car accident. I’ll never forget her telling me that I was still in traction and that healing would come, but that it wasn’t something that could be rushed. God would bring me along in His time and show me the next thing when I was ready, she told me. And so He has. I thank God that He will show Himself strong and faithful as you walk with Him during this time of deep sorrow.
Continuing to pray that you will be comforted by His steadfast love,
Susan
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