There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: Ecclesiastes 3:1 1
As we embark into the new season of Spring, we are reminded of the continual changes in and around us. As the landscape awakens with color, renewed life, and expanding growth, we find ourselves waking from our wintry slumber as well. Often, this is a season of birth, or rebirth for some.
Approaching Easter, Christians are reminded of the sacrifice made for eventual and eternal rebirth. Christians believe that Jesus Christ lived a sinless life, proclaimed to be the Son of God, witnessed and testified to thousands, and was sacrificed, died, and rose again on the third day. This sequence of events is significant to Christians as it fulfills the promise that we too will have eternal life after this sin-filled world ends for us.
This is a season of Hope and restoration for so many. The reminders that life continues to grow, mature, and can still be beautiful, even after the darkest and most solitude days is encouraging for so many. To watch the barren branches of our pecan trees stand hallowed against the winter’s gray sky is eery and some days down-right depressing. Yet, as the sky lightens up to reveal shades of orange and pink, and the pale green leaves begin to emerge from the filigree branches, we are lifted and reminded that a new day is dawning and life is going to continue for another season.
As we long for the days of summer that are filled with sunshine, fresh air, and adventures, we are hopeful that life will be better in the days ahead. We find optimism we didn’t know still lingered around us.
Grief is a very long season
In Ecclesiastes 3, we are reminded that everything has a season, including grief. To some this means that grief can be entertained for a time, then is is boxed up neatly to stay confined in its seasonal parameters until it is released again by natural order. This is interpreted differently and approached by many with very different perspectives.
First of all, we all experience grief. Not all episodes that evoke grief are the same, but we are all still grieved in some capacity. Due to this fallen world, our mortality is finite, meaning we will all mourn someone or be mourned one day.
Second of all, not all grief is over death, or death alone. We grieve relationships that have ended or didn’t blossom. We grieve encounters that didn’t go as planned or will never happen. We grieve what was as well as what should have been.
My hometown of Panama City is grieving six months after Hurricane Michael, a category 4 storm, ripped through leaving a 40 mile wide path of destruction. They are grieving the loss of the their homes, possessions, jobs, neighborhoods, health, memories, and future in their communities. The effects of the tragedy are leaving many to face PTSD, anxiety, depression, anger, and many more elements of grief. Some don’t realize this is in fact grief, and even more heartbreaking is most don’t know where to turn for guidance. This week the same families were faced with the threat of a nearly 670 acre wildfire that ripped through the northern corner of the county, one of the areas most devastated by the storm.
Where is the Hope of a new season?
For my hometown survivors, they are having a difficult time seeing the hope in this season. As their town is nowhere near restoration, their future is more unsecure than ever before, and that can leave one feeling very hopeless.
Yet, I saw pictures of the a devastated area this week, trees capped off at four to six feet, and I noticed the small oak branches budding from the dismantled trunks. I saw images of neighbors housing tent cities in their yards to combine resources and give a sense of security, even in epidemic homelessness. Posts on social media are increasingly disheartening, yet littered among the exhaustion are posts of support, resources, and encouragement to remember they are strong and united even when they feel alone and defeated.
In grief, it is difficult to see the future of Hope and Life that is intended to be filled with Joy. How does one create Joy when getting out of bed and grooming is nearly impossible? How does one find Hope in this world when darkness lurks in every corner with crime, disasters, and diseases infiltrating nearly every home?
Often people ask how we are doing, knowing that this is a difficult question to both ask and answer. People know when they ask they will not get a truly honest answer, and to be frank, they don’t want one. No one wants to imagine losing two young children to a previously adult-dominant disease. Certainly no one wants to know what it is truly like to live with that grief. Yet, there is a sense of curiosity-Just HOW DO YOU get of bed everyday and function?
Just as when you buy a new white car, you will see an influx of white cars on the road, your awareness increases. The same is true with any unique groupings. I have friends with children with Down Syndrome. They have a special bond with nearly all of the local families. Same is true with our cancer families, and even more so with our grieving parents clan. We have found a niche with several different groups of people due to our circumstances. With each, I have learned that our experiences are often quite similar.
With our cancer families, we have come to know wonderful people both young and old. We have grown to love children and their families, as well as many adults because of the similar diagnoses that we have experienced. We have seen countless families endure months and years of treatment to find remission as a common word in their vocabulary, to the point where Cancer is rarely said in their homes now. We have embraced families who’ve traversed the deep abyss of death. With each family, we have seen grief through various stages, and there is often glimmers of Hope along the way.
How does one navigate the seasonal changes of grief? For some it is given time to reside, then it is boxed up and put away, to only be glimpsed at once in a while. Others live in the same difficult season for weeks, months, and even years, unaware of how to encourage the change, or really even the desire. This is often fueled by anger, which will burn out Joy every time. Am I angry that my two girls died from cancer? Absolutely. Am I angry that cancer in children is rising across the globe with a wildfire like frenzy? Yes, I am. Yet, after much consideration, I have chosen not to stay in that place of hurt and darkness. I know that my girls loved Jesus, and they accepted Him as their Lord and Savior. I know that they are in His care now. Does it anger me that they are not in mine? Certainly, but I know that they are also not suffering in this broken world because they have been redeemed.
Joy does not just come easily to anyone. Everyone who is joyful has to make a concerted effort to be joyful. Everyone struggles with heartache, disappointment, grief, pain, discouragement, and anger. It takes effort to find the joy in the seasons. Finding the blooming flowers among the burnt forest floor signifies that beauty comes from ashes. New life comes from death, both literal and spiritual.
I know I will see my girls again one day. I know that they loved life every day, even on the hardest days. Maddie was often asked, to her frustration sometimes, “How are you?” She almost always replied, “I’m Good.” To her everyday was the best day ever. She found joy in the simplest things:getting her favorite flavor from the mystery dum-dums, getting warm gooey cheese for her nachos, wearing her favorite pajama pants just because, getting a sweet tea from Zacadoos, a surprise trip to the DQ, stepping into the cool water of the pool on a warm summer day, letting the water run over her head in the shower after 3 days of Optune, riding in the front seat of Dad’s truck, winning at a game of Uno, or sitting on the swing under the Magnolia tree.
Elizabeth was quite similar. She loved a sweet tea from Zacadoo’s, Pork Lo Mein, a good round of Uno, floating in the pool, finishing a new princess drawing, and seeing Peter Pan at Disney World.
Finding Joy now is witnessing the simple happiness in Jacob and Mary. Mary loves a new sensory gift, her latest was a Unicorn sequin pillow. Jacob loves when a new catalog, magazine, or sales paper comes in. Mary loves to swing and touch the trees with her feet. Jacob loves to build scenes with his thousands of small toys. Mary loves to cannonball in the water, while Jacob loves to just float. They both love story time and hugs. We are trying more to savor these moments.
How does one find joy when there is not a little one around? Sometimes it helps to do something the loved one enjoyed. For years I shunned this idea. I refused to eat pork lo mein for nearly six years after Elizabeth died. If she couldn’t have it, neither would I. Then, one day, Madeline asked for it. Gasp…I could barely utter the words as I placed the order. Yet, I was then able to tell all my children jut how much Elizabeth and Granny loved these slippery noodles. I was able to share memories I had tucked away so deeply, I nearly cried as they bubbled to the surface of my mind. I was locking these away, and for whom? I wasn’t recalling them, and I was denying others the glimpse into her life. Slowly, we emerged with the idea that we SHOULD embrace what the girls loved. The idea of dance was pushed away for Mary Katherine after Maddie died, yet, yesterday, her new shoes, leotard, and tights arrived yesterday as I look forward with bittersweet memories of another little girl learning to arabesque and shuffle-ball-change on the stage.
How do you find joy today, even in your grief? Do you visit that special place, eat that food, or even share those stories? Once you can embark on these difficult journeys, you will find the season is changing. The delicate green leaves of new life will emerge. The blossoms of joy will slowly waft their sweet aroma across your heart. Even in death, there is new life.
Jesus died for each of us, so that we may have everlasting life in Him. May you find this a season of Hope for you and your loved ones. Grief will not leave you, it will simply change you and the journey you take ahead. It will always be there, but the promises of Christ will lift you from the darkest days and show you that new life will abound.