Reflective Grief and Gratitude

 “Your consolation brought joy to my soul.”
Psalm 94:19 (NIV)

Recently while working my way through 1 and 2 Samuel, I came across the following passage from Old Testament scholar Dale Ralph Davis. In context, Ralph Davis is reflecting on King David’s grief following Jonathan and Saul’s deaths (2 Samuel 1:17-27). He writes:

“A lament is an expression of thoughtful grief…the intensity of one’s emotions unite with the discipline of one’s mind to produce a kind of coherent agony. In a lament, therefore, words are carefully selected, crafted, honed, to express loss as closely yet fully as possible.

The sorrows and wounds God’s people receive from their losses are not miraculously healed after a short time of emotional catharsis. And sometimes in the church there is such an impatience with grief. Why isn’t Allan ‘over’ Carol’s death or Connie over Tom’s since it’s been eighteen months. But the lament form of the Bible assumes that our grief is deep and ongoing, and it invites us to enter the discipline of expressing that grief in words that convey our anguish in images that picture our despair, in written prayers that verbalize despondency. Why should God’s people be shoddy with their grief?”

Davis’ words challenged me to consider what thoughtful grief would actually look like. Soon after James Bruce’s death, I began recording a few grief notes in my prayer journal. My notes were insights or observations observed in real time as Bruce and I began gathering our pieces (John 6:12) and trying to move forward. Reviewing two months of journal entries, I find that most of my grief notes fit in one of 3 categories:

• Personal grief reflections

• Practical grief tips or strategies that have helped us so far

• Counsel for those seeking to comfort those who are grieving a significant loss

Here are a few of my personal grief reflections:

• Christ’s resurrection and the hope of heaven have taken on a whole new meaning for me since James Bruce’s death.

• Children are indeed a gift from the Lord, but they don’t belong to us. God claims ownership and responsibility for our children. They were God’s children before they were ours and they will be God’s children long after they are ours. (Isaiah 45:11 NASB)

• The Psalms have been a great source of comfort over the last 2.5 months.

• Hallmark movies and Fox News were no longer appetites that satisfied me. I needed quiet space and the comfort of God’s word.

• The things I already believed as true, now seem truer than ever. These include:

  • God is near to the brokenhearted. (Psalm 34:18)

  • God’s grace is sufficient. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

  • God daily bears our burdens. (Psalm 68:19)

  • God gives songs in the night. (Job 35:10)

  • All of our days are ordained for us before there is one. (Psalm 139:16)

 By far, however, I am coming to slowly understand that gratitude is an essential component of our grief healing process.

• I’m so grateful that God chose me to be James Bruce’s Mama.

• I’m grateful for all of the prayers offered on our behalf.

• I’m thankful people came and gave us the gift of presence.

I’m grateful I didn’t invest any more of my life at work than I did. Don’t get me wrong; I am very grateful for the employer and the job that I had for 35 years. Working in healthcare, I never had the option to work remotely. My employer, however, allowed me to work a flexible schedule around the needs of my family; paid me well for the work I did; allowed me to provide much needed income for our family; and insured that I had a generous retirement and health coverage benefits. But the people who showed up for us following James Bruce’s death were the people with whom Bruce and I had established real life on life relationships beyond just work: family; coaching, athletics, & school communities; church friends; neighbors; community leaders; Auxiliary members, Special Connections parents and staff; Flower Guild buddies; high school, college, and Auburn Football Lettermen friends.

Often throughout my career I thought James Bruce was holding me back professionally, preventing me from accepting promotions or jobs with more titles and more money.  And I can remember feeling slightly embarrassed when the clock struck 2:30 PM and I had to quickly leave meetings to pick up James Bruce from school. I couldn’t leave a special needs kid sitting on the school curb by himself. But I will be forever grateful for those caregiver boundaries that forced me to choose “Mom” duties over job titles. I don’t regret one minute of the time that I invested in any of our children. That 3-5 PM afternoon time allowed me an invaluable window into all of my children’s hearts and lives and provided much needed stability to and structure for our family.

But most of all, I’m grateful that James Bruce James finished faithfully and so did we. We truly “did what we could.” (Mark 14:8)

On the other side of grief is joy as we focus, not on what we’ve lost, but what James Bruce has gained. The Apostle Paul reminds us that “to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21) We are not yet over our grief, but trying to thoughtfully, reflectively, and gratefully walk through it. With each step, we’re finding God’s grace is truly sufficient. And that reality is something for which we can all give thanks.