Death is hard. It is one of the hardest truths we must face in this world. There are all kinds of loss…the sudden and unexpected passing of a loved one, the passing after a slow and difficult decline, the loss of a pet, loss of a job, loss of a home, loss of a relationship, loss of self, loss of faith. No matter what kind of loss is being faced, the grieving is tough. When we are forced to say goodbye to the presence of someone we love, whether they are taken from us or they choose to walk away, the transition can feel devastating.

How do we let go of the assumed future of that relationship? People occupy space in our lives, and when that space is suddenly vacated, it is disorienting and disheartening. No matter how expected or unexpected the loss is, we are suddenly faced with a void we must learn tolerate. When I see breast cancer patients here at work, one of the most common issues they face is the pain left behind in the absence of a tumor. The tissue surrounding the space that was once occupied by the lump is in a constant state of flux and adjustment as it struggles to adapt to the missing tissue. The cavity can fill with fluid and sometimes swell up, causing pain and discomfort. Most patients state they experience sudden pain in that area that is sharp and tingly, almost like a jolt of electricity.

That is how grief can be…you’re moving along through your day, feeling like you’ve got a handle on things, when suddenly you are hit by an emotional ambush. Something you see or hear triggers the pain of loss, leaving you reeling in pain and frustration at being thrown off your feet. There is no specific time frame for the grieving process, and everybody handles it differently. My husband leads a grief recovery support group seminar called GriefShare (griefshare.org). He started out by attending the seminar two or three times after the loss of his first wife, and has since transitioned into a group facilitator. He understands the struggle of grief and is a wonderful person to have beside you as you walk through that pain, especially in the GriefShare setting.

Having suffered a variety of losses myself over the last couple of years, I am often overwhelmed by the blessing God has given me in the form of a loving husband who understands my pain and is not only capable, but very willing to walk beside me as I stumble through my own grief. One of my biggest struggles is knowing how to lay my pain at God’s feet. I have said so many goodbye’s lately, I’ve reached a place where one more goodbye feels like more than I can possibly tolerate. Yet, here I am, faced with one more to tolerate. When someone else is making a choice to push you away, it is very difficult to accept and stop trying to hold them close. But, we reach a point when we must turn it over to God, knowing that if the relationship is to be healed, He will bring the healing about when the time is right.

Simultaneously, it seems we are in the process of saying goodbye to a beloved member of our family. After the loss of his wife, my husband remained close to his mother-in-law, and has done his best to look after her, especially as her health began to decline. I have had the great pleasure of getting to know her, and will freely admit that I’ve truly loved her from the day we met. She has a beautiful heart and a fiery spirit. Now, it seems, she may be on the final journey towards heaven. While we know it will be a blessing for her, that doesn’t diminish the loss we will feel in her passing, whenever the time comes. That is yet another goodbye for the many who love her.

These are times when we must learn how to lay our pain in the Father’s hands and rest. Our best option is to allow Him to help us adjust to the voids left behind and not run from the grief we must walk through. It serves a purpose. It is to be expected. When patients are healing from surgery, they are given instructions on self-care – especially much needed rest. While it is crucial for them to gradually increase their activity levels, it is equally important that they not do too much too soon. After we’ve experienced a loss of any kind, we must allow the same…a gradual increase in our activity and interaction with other people, while being cognizant of not using activity to run from our grief and pain. It is a fine line, often most effectively walked with guidance.

If you’ve ever dealt with fishing line, you know it is typically clear and hard to see. Looking at it from a different perspective can make it easier to recognize, like tilting your head just so and catching a glint of sunlight springing from its surface. The line between healing and running from grief is much the same. While we are not always in a good position to see that line for ourselves, God will place people in our lives who can help us find it and stay on the right side of it. It’s easy to get lost, especially when distancing yourself from the pain feels like a relief. But by the same token, that pain is still there, waiting in the wings, nagging at us from deep within until we finally get the courage to face it.

Is there something you’re running from in life? What pain is buried in your heart, waiting to be faced? Don’t you want to be free of the weight of grief? I know I do. I am tired and spent. I want to learn how to reach out to God and accept His help with my struggles. I want to be someone who is able to be at rest, knowing He is working in my life at all times, and whatever is for my best good is what will be. I want to put down my own will and walk in His, because I know that in doing so I will have true freedom. It’s not my job to fix everything that I think is wrong in my life. It’s my job to do the best I can with the days I am given, and trust God to lead me home.