The Weight of Grief

The Weight of Grief

How are you doing in this new world we are navigating? Sometimes I feel like March blew us through a portal into another world. We can still see our own world, but we can’t actually enter it. Kind of like in the movie Inception.

I’ve been contemplating the heaviness that this season has brought. Do you feel it? A lethargy. A passivity. An emptiness. A weight. A sense of inertia. A feeling of… je ne sais quoi.

Well, Friend, that is grief.

So much grief. Grief is funny. It can feel sad. It can feel angry. It can feel nothing. It can feel irritable. It can feel unsettled. It can feel like confusion. We don’t always identify it, because it wears many disguises. When we fail to recognize it for what it is, it makes it difficult to deal with it effectively.

The truth is, we are all experiencing layers of loss right now. And when something you love is lost, it creates grief. We have losses related to COVID, and then we have losses and heartbreaks that are individual to our own lives. It’s layer upon layer. And it adds up in weight.

Maybe this sculpture captures your feelings right now – weighed down, immobilized, heavy, burdened. Grief can feel like an enormous weight – even when we don’t know what it is.
Or maybe this sculpture better symbolizes how you feel in your grief – empty, hollow, carved out, vacant. Grief can also feel like a vacuum.

I was listening to a podcast this morning about grief, particularly in this season. The speaker referred to grief and gratitude as dance partners, in a delicate and complex dance – first one taking the lead, and then the other. And I have found that to be true. When I was in boarding school in 11th grade, I found myself exceedingly homesick one day. My housemother, who was much more than that to me – she was one of the most influential people in my spiritual formation growing up, told me that being homesick (also a form of grief) is an opportunity to thank the Lord for the blessings He had given which made the absence of them so painful. You cannot experience great loss without great love. So grief is also an opportunity for gratitude.

So what can you do with your layers of grief today? I want to invite you (and myself) to find an hour or two, and just do a couple of these things.

  1. Name it
    Write down all the losses – big and small. The celebration that got canceled, the vacation you wanted but aren’t going to get, the loss of freedom, the dreams, and plans, and hopes that died, the loss of security and safety, the isolation from friends and family, the job loss, the income hit, the giant chunk that departed from your retirement account, the loved one that died… Write them all down. And don’t just think about today. Grief accumulation is a thing. Think about the losses for the past year or so. Because when you experience a new grief today, it is sitting on the pile of the losses from the past.
  2. Lament
    The Psalms are full of lament. Crying out to God about things that are hard. Raw emotion poured out. I wrote a little bit about lament here. Write a lament – a psalm of sorrow. Don’t hold back. Get in touch with what’s really going on in your heart, and write that. Don’t be afraid – God can handle your sorrow.
  3. Give thanks
    This might be hard work at first, but it’ll get easier. Start with your list of losses. What did God bless you with that made that loss so hard? What love did you experience that made its absence such a void? Write those down too. And then spend time going through your list and thanking God with great sincerity for what you were able to have for a time.
  4. Share the burden
    No one wants to be the needy person – I get that. But let’s face it, we are ALL needy. And the Bible tells us to bear one another’s burdens. But how can we bear a burden we don’t know about? Find a friend, or a counselor, or a Spiritual Director and share your grief. Share the list. Share your lament. And you will find that the weight really does lift a little.
  5. Bless Someone
    It sounds cliché, but there really is always someone worse off than we are. Our losses are important and valid, but there are almost always people who are suffering more than we are. Find someone who is struggling and see what you can do to help. Bake some cookies for neighbors. Volunteer with a ministry. Call an old friend. Send some working parents pizza for dinner. Ask an older neighbor or person in your church if you can run errands for them. There are always people to bless. And if you can’t find any around you, think more broadly and bless someone overseas. Hit me up if you need help with this…
  6. Turn your eyes upon Jesus…
    …look full in His wonderful face; and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace. The Gaithers were on to something there. Meditating on the glory of Jesus is good for grief. He is WITH US in our grief. Sometimes we lose sight of Him for all the clouds and fog. But He is there. We need to intentionally turn our eyes toward Him, and gaze at His glorious face. It will help to bring things into perspective.

Take heart, Friend. Jesus sees you. And He feels your pain too. He sits with us in our losses, and He promises that one day everything lost in the brokenness of this world will be restored. And every tear will be wiped away. And our “light and momentary afflictions” will disappear in the light of the glory to come. These are unbreakable promises.

And that is Hope.

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