Those Who Mourn
This post is a little heavy today. In just over two years, Tom and I have suffered the losses of about 25 of our loved ones.
That's not a typo. Twenty-five. Today, that is weighing heavy on my heart.
One week, we had to choose which funerals to attend...out of six.
What do you do with that?
Of course, some farewells were even harder than the others, Some losses have changed us for a lifetime. They weren't just pinpricks in the fabric of our routines and memories, but gaping wounds dug deep into who we are.
It hurts.
A few days ago, I woke up thinking of these losses....family members like Uncle Bill, Aunt Chris, Uncle Eddie, Uncle John, Kathy, Raven, Vanette, Richard....and friends like Sally, Julie, Bob, Phil, Beth, Peter F., Lois, India and so many more. My hearts hurts to even begin to name them.
However, as I reflected on those who we lost, there was a remarkable, surprise feeling of gratitude for four things in particular.
1. I was so grateful to have known and loved these tremendous people during their time on earth. My life has been impacted for the better through them, and I wouldn't trade that hello for not having to say goodbye.
2. I am also so grateful to know other tremendous people who help fill my life with wonderful happiness and memories. I am not alone as I grieve. I walk through this life with help from my friends.What a gift that is. I never want to become so absorbed in the grief that I take that for granted.
3. This is a biggie. . . I am grateful to know that so many of my friends know Jesus and get to enjoy heaven with Him for eternity. This life is so fleeting. . . But someday we will be in our forever. I remember the joy and delight of Julie and Beth as they spoke of their future home. We have sadness here missing them, but they have eternal bliss and joy there with Jesus. We don't need to worry about them.
4. I am so grateful that Jesus has made a way for that to be my future someday, too. I am grateful that I opened my heart to Him. He is my Wonderful Counselor, Everlasting God, and Prince of Peace and he will wipe every tear from our eyes. This heart struggle is just for a season.
As I thought of those four truths, I felt something powerful. It was as if flowers were sprouting from those tender bare patches that had been torn open these last few years in the ground of my soul. Flowers of hope, peace and even joy.
I was healing.
Then--brace yourself--we got word yesterday of #26. My heart broke all over again. He was young . . . and now he's gone from our world. My thoughts run toward asking, "Why?" But what does "why" matter? It doesn't change the hurt much.
Those four things are still true. I am grateful to have known Josh. I am grateful for friends who grieve along with me. I am SO grateful he went to heaven and SO grateful we get to be there one day, too. None of those truths have changed.
However, the pain is raw and real. One of my biggest struggles right now is that after so many deaths, who do you tell? Who do you go to for a shoulder to cry on? How much of the weight do you keep putting on others? How much can they bear for you? How many times do you ask your boss and coworkers for another day of mourning before it just sounds like lies?
So, today I will head back to work and things will move forward as if the world hasn't shifted for us. . . as if we aren't in the midst of saying goodbye to one of the kindest, smartest, wittiest people I ever met.
And as if my heart isn't still weeping for the loss of my friend Beth just a month ago.
As if losing people this often is somehow normal?
Who do I possibly tell about this gripping, horrible pain of #26?
Then, as I think about such things, an old song floods my mind and the answer comes to me.
I must tell Jesus all of my trials.
I cannot bear these burdens alone.
In my distress, He kindly will help me.
He ever cares and loves his own.
I must tell Jesus; I must tell Jesus.
I cannot bear these burdens alone.
I must tell Jesus; I must tell Jesus.
Jesus will help me, Jesus alone.
(Elisha A. Hoffman, 1894)
It may sound strange, but if truly know Him, you'll understand. He is there when no one else can be and his love is more fulfilling and helpful than anyone else ever could be. I am so grateful that a few moments in his presence can stop the anxiety, send peace and bring comfort, over and over again.
Thank you for your prayers. "Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted." (Matthew 5:4)
I must stop now and go tell Jesus. 💔
Peace to you.
Janine
That's not a typo. Twenty-five. Today, that is weighing heavy on my heart.
One week, we had to choose which funerals to attend...out of six.
What do you do with that?
Of course, some farewells were even harder than the others, Some losses have changed us for a lifetime. They weren't just pinpricks in the fabric of our routines and memories, but gaping wounds dug deep into who we are.
It hurts.
A few days ago, I woke up thinking of these losses....family members like Uncle Bill, Aunt Chris, Uncle Eddie, Uncle John, Kathy, Raven, Vanette, Richard....and friends like Sally, Julie, Bob, Phil, Beth, Peter F., Lois, India and so many more. My hearts hurts to even begin to name them.
However, as I reflected on those who we lost, there was a remarkable, surprise feeling of gratitude for four things in particular.
1. I was so grateful to have known and loved these tremendous people during their time on earth. My life has been impacted for the better through them, and I wouldn't trade that hello for not having to say goodbye.
2. I am also so grateful to know other tremendous people who help fill my life with wonderful happiness and memories. I am not alone as I grieve. I walk through this life with help from my friends.What a gift that is. I never want to become so absorbed in the grief that I take that for granted.
3. This is a biggie. . . I am grateful to know that so many of my friends know Jesus and get to enjoy heaven with Him for eternity. This life is so fleeting. . . But someday we will be in our forever. I remember the joy and delight of Julie and Beth as they spoke of their future home. We have sadness here missing them, but they have eternal bliss and joy there with Jesus. We don't need to worry about them.
4. I am so grateful that Jesus has made a way for that to be my future someday, too. I am grateful that I opened my heart to Him. He is my Wonderful Counselor, Everlasting God, and Prince of Peace and he will wipe every tear from our eyes. This heart struggle is just for a season.
As I thought of those four truths, I felt something powerful. It was as if flowers were sprouting from those tender bare patches that had been torn open these last few years in the ground of my soul. Flowers of hope, peace and even joy.
I was healing.
Then--brace yourself--we got word yesterday of #26. My heart broke all over again. He was young . . . and now he's gone from our world. My thoughts run toward asking, "Why?" But what does "why" matter? It doesn't change the hurt much.
Those four things are still true. I am grateful to have known Josh. I am grateful for friends who grieve along with me. I am SO grateful he went to heaven and SO grateful we get to be there one day, too. None of those truths have changed.
However, the pain is raw and real. One of my biggest struggles right now is that after so many deaths, who do you tell? Who do you go to for a shoulder to cry on? How much of the weight do you keep putting on others? How much can they bear for you? How many times do you ask your boss and coworkers for another day of mourning before it just sounds like lies?
So, today I will head back to work and things will move forward as if the world hasn't shifted for us. . . as if we aren't in the midst of saying goodbye to one of the kindest, smartest, wittiest people I ever met.
And as if my heart isn't still weeping for the loss of my friend Beth just a month ago.
As if losing people this often is somehow normal?
Who do I possibly tell about this gripping, horrible pain of #26?
Then, as I think about such things, an old song floods my mind and the answer comes to me.
I must tell Jesus all of my trials.
I cannot bear these burdens alone.
In my distress, He kindly will help me.
He ever cares and loves his own.
I must tell Jesus; I must tell Jesus.
I cannot bear these burdens alone.
I must tell Jesus; I must tell Jesus.
Jesus will help me, Jesus alone.
(Elisha A. Hoffman, 1894)
It may sound strange, but if truly know Him, you'll understand. He is there when no one else can be and his love is more fulfilling and helpful than anyone else ever could be. I am so grateful that a few moments in his presence can stop the anxiety, send peace and bring comfort, over and over again.
Thank you for your prayers. "Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted." (Matthew 5:4)
I must stop now and go tell Jesus. 💔
Peace to you.
Janine
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