Thursday, November 17, 2011

Getting over grief: What a difference a day makes...

Grief is such a freaking fascinating thing.

One minute I can be sucking down a glass of Merlot -- something I never do on a Wednesday night -- laughing at Modern Family to mask the pain -- ready to give up on everything again and feeling hopeless.

And then I can wake up on a Thursday morning -- begging "Help me, God..." and "Help us, Lord..." for nearly the 14th day in a row.

I let the Word of our Mighty One wash over me through Pastor Joseph Prince -- who reminded me that lustful thoughts aren't from above, and that we can reject them at their onslaught.

Oh yeah, I should've remembered that little lesson -- and taken a big hint from the visions of snakes around me at the altar when I fasted and prayed. (One was a green one that winked at me...I didn't like that because it reminded me of another nightmare years ago -- and at least that snake's head was soon cut off in the vision.)

But God also showed me a strong chain of links (especially a big silver one on the right in my mind's eye) being broken apart by one weak link in the middle -- and some things are coming clearer.

What did that tenuous, discolored link in the middle that broke apart represent? A horrible fate avoided? That's the type of positive stuff we can focus on when life and circumstances seem bleak. It could've been soooo much worse than it is right now...

The things we lose at times are for good reasons. Great reasons. He protects us and shows us ourselves.

The hope returns...
So I put on those bike pants and let the Tow Path and Jesus beckon me and give me the energy to do an 8-mile bike ride, back where I belong with Him in the freezing cold 33-degree weather.

It felt good to exercise once more...something I'd lost the will to do temporarily.

He reminds me of His "It is yours" promises, and that this seemingly devastating plot point is not the end.

And Christ keeps bringing me back whenever I'm tempted to dance on the edge of despair. 

"I'm back," I felt, peddling those miles with renewed confidence -- after checking out that white goose that just doesn't realize he's supposed to migrate with all the others to warmer climates.

But he knows just fine where he should be. His story is not like the others.

Hold on, old soldier!
That's what Bishop Walter Hawkins told a crack-addicted pastor who went back to that stuff after he was saved. What a testimony of a good friendship the cleaned-up pastor had at Hawkins' funeral, when he told the crowd how Hawkins flew him out to his house and ministered to him during that rough time.

God knows just what we need when we need it.

When I was warmed up enough back home after being fulfilled by my time with Him, that's when the text from my bestie checking on me was found by me, as well as the message on my land line from another good friend I kind of broke up with three years ago.

We were able to pick up past where we left off and share hearts and souls and relay stories, asking ourselves and God, "Why did we act that way?"

Getting Over the Grief and Past Hurts...
As faithful as He is, the answers come right away:

Because you're still hurt by this situation...


Because you need to get over this past pain...


You did the same thing and hurt people because you still need to deal with your anger over this other person...

Exactly when I needed it, the Almighty brought the idea to dust off The Grief Recovery Handbook ideas and let us do more graphs. After all, it's been a good 6 years since I last went through grief recovery.

I think I've got a few losses and people to grieve since that time.

So lunch dates are planned, loss letters to be read -- as well as blessed time away (I pray) during the holidays on vacation trips, if they are meant to be.

Prolific posts are happening, and I know this is just not our sad ending. I can literally feel it.

And even though down-in-the-dumps nights can happen to anyone, it's worth it to wake up in the morning to discover His new graces and mercies being showered upon us.

1 comment:

Jawara Kampung said...

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Paula Neal Mooney