A Time for Everything

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:                                                           a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.                                                             -Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NIV)

Thank you for being patient with me.

You see, I do not like being a person who is not “in control” of my emotions. Yet that is exactly what I am experiencing — a lack of control. People think I’m upset or angry. I’m not — I’m sad; I’m grieving. I’ve observed others grieve and have often wondered at the way they do so. Some people are strong — they are a rock solid. It turns out that I am nothing more than marshmallow cream when I grieve. Hugs make me cry. Funny stories make me cry. Sad stories make me cry. Pictures and memories — even good ones — make me cry. It doesn’t take much to make me cry these days.

Quite frankly, that annoys me! I am extremely independent and I’ve always been a “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” kind of person and I am helpless to be able to do that now. I so desperately want to go back to being able to function without this overwhelming sense of grief and loss. I know it will take time, but I’m impatient.

A dear friend taught me somethings about grief — thankfully. It was after our nephew died; she knew I was struggling and because of her experience working as a Hospice Chaplain, she was able to help me through that time. She taught me that it takes about two years to work through the grief of one loss. Each new loss is tacked on to the end of that two years — concurrent grieving is apparently not possible. I learned about grief bursts — a time of overwhelming, unexplainable, and uncontrollable grief. Grief bursts can happen without any perceived provocation and they must simply be endured. As pastors, my husband and I have often told those who grieve in our church that while the first year of grief is hard, the second year is often more difficult. It is in the second year that we realize the permanence of our loss — the second Christmas is when you realize that your loved one will never sit at the table with the family again.

In my brain, I know these things. In my heart, I want to fast forward through this time of loss and pain. I don’t like being treated like I’m breakable, but in some ways, I am very fragile. Kindness seems to be one of the worst responses I receive because it makes me feel weak — but I am weak. You see, no matter how much I hate feeling this way, right now I need kindness, gentleness and support. I am so grateful that God is in control, that family is loving, and that friends and coworkers are kind.

I will cope better…probably not tomorrow and maybe not even the next day, but soon. In the meantime I will try to remember that there is a time to mourn and this is that time. Thank you for walking this journey with me. For loving and caring, for praying. Soon, it will be time to dance. I can hardly wait.