Way to Live: Grieving
by Cheryl A. Kirk-Duggan with Tatiana Wilson (age 14)
Punching Pillows and Planting Roses
Arguing with God and singing songs of lament are powerful ways to deal with the loss of a loved one. Just as tears provide relief, your whole body can let go of grief. You can
◊ punch pillows
◊ help an older adult do chores
◊ beat on a drum
◊ clean out all your closets, even when it's not springtime
◊ put on an old shirt and the rip to shreds
◊ kick-box
◊ run five miles
◊ play loud music and shout.
A wise old woman once told me that if someone does something cruel, you should plant a tree. When someone dies, you can plant a tree in that person's memory. Or you can plant a rose garden. When my grandmother died, all her grandchildren decided to plant a rose garden in her memory. Grannie's rose garden had always been special. Her rose beds were beautiful, and below them she planted string beans. Those were the sweetest beans, and the green leaves and stalks made a beautiful contrast to the pink, yellow, white, and red roses. Today many people enjoy the rose garden we planted at Grannie's church, and the colorful flowers remind us of our grandmother's remarkable, faithful life.
When a member of our church youth group died, we needed a ritual to help us cope with her death. We created a special service which featured all her favorite music and a liturgical dance performed against a backdrop of slides showing our friend at church camp. Our youth group made a pact to meet for prayer every day for two weeks before school. During those two weeks, many of us also abstained from meat and spent an hour each evening in total silence: no talking, no music, no TV, no computers. We also collected money that we usually spent on junk food and started a fund to help kids in trouble. Together, these activities put us on the path to healing.
Lamenting Together
For the family and congregation, a funeral or memorial service offers a time for communal lament. Go to these services if possibly can. They'll help you grieve your loss and stand in solidarity with other mourners. In some communities, people have a wake for the deceased prior to burial. At a wake, friends and family gather to share memories of the person who has died. A wake may have a festive atmosphere, which can feel odd when you're not in a party mood. But being present for those who are mourning the loss of a loved one doesn't mean denying your own sadness and discomfort.
Death is a mystery, so when someone dies, we don't need to explain it by saying, "It must have been God's will." The truth is, we don't know God's will. Death and God's will are both mysteries. Do you remember what Jesus did when he learned that his good friend Lazarus had died? He didn't tell Mary and Martha, "Oh, don't fret; it must have been God's will for your brother to die." Instead Jesus wept (John 11:35). He openly grieved the loss of his friend before calling him back to life. Jesus didn't try to explain death, and we don't need to either.
We don't need to console mourners by reminding them that "God never gives us more than we can bear." As a Presbyterian minister once proclaimed following the death of this wife in an SUV rollover, "That's bull hockey! We can't bear this. There is plenty of stuff in this world we cannot bear. The verse means that God will never give us more than God can bear. God will bear it and bear us up, in and through it."
Persons in grief don't need a lecture; they need us to be present with compassion. When grieving the loss of a loved one, our friends need to know that they are not facing the world alone. And they need to know that others can keep the faith for them even when they may find it difficult themselves. When their lips are frozen, their hearts and minds numbed by the storm of sadness, we can pray on their behalf. When their voices catch and their hearts have no melody, we can lift our voices in song. And when our friends find themselves surrounded by the dark storm clouds of despair, we can hold on to the hope expressed n an African-American spiritual: "When it looked like the sun wasn't gonna shine anymore, God put a rainbow in the clouds."
Glimpsing the Rainbow
Christians grieve but not as those "who have no hope" (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Our hope is anchored in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Indeed the risen Lord is the lighthouse beam that guides us through all the storms of life. Being Christian doesn't enable us to see in the midst of blowing wind and driving rain. When the storm clouds begin to lift, we see that this ray of light appears as a rainbow, bringing color and hope to our gray world even as raindrops continue to fall.
Have you ever sung or heard "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" by Thomas A. Dorsey? Dorsey composed this song during a period of intense grief after this wife and baby boy died. He buried them both in the same casket. Then he fell apart.
At that moment I came closest to rejecting God. It didn't seem fair for God to make it a double loss. I had tried to live by God's will. Was this my reward?
Dorsey didn't "get over" the death of his dear family, but he didn't let anger and grief consume him either. A week later he went to visit a friend, and together they walked over to a neighborhood music school. It was late evening as Dorsey sat down at the piano, his hands rambling over the keys. In the midst of great sorrow, Dorsey felt God's consoling presence. And he found his fingers composing a new melody.
The words~like drops of water from the crevice of a rock above~seemed to drop in line with me on the piano:
Precious Lord, take my hand
lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
through the storm, through the night
lead me on to the light:
Take my hand, precious Lord,
lead me home.
Thomas Dorsey saw a glimpse of the rainbow, a sure sign of God's love and care for him in the midst of the storm. He knew God had healed his spirit and that in our deepest grief, God is closest to us. Dorsey offered his song of lament to God and received a blessing. The blessing came not only to Dorsey, but to the millions of people who have been comforted and inspired by "Precious Lord" since that song was penned in 1932.
Perhaps you hare grieving a personal loss as you read these words. Perhaps you are standing with others who are mourning the death of a loved one. The grief and other emotions you are experiencing are natural and inevitable. But when you glimpse a rainbow amid the storm, know that you are not alone. God is with you, and God can handle all the anger and cursing and complaints that your grief provokes. You are surrounded by fellow sufferers who are also grieving loss; they will open their hearts to you and hold you up as you try to get your bearings again. Give yourself~and others~time and space to grieve in a way that leads to healing and renewal. That's what the practice of lament is all about.
From Way to Live: Christian Practices for Teens edited by Dorothy C. Bass and Don C. Richter, copyright © 2002 by Upper Room Books. Used by permission of the publisher, 1-800-972-0433, http://www.bookstore.upperroom.org. Explore the website www.waytolive.org.
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