Companion in Grief.
Sometimes we communicate to remind ourselves we are not alone. Times of grief are like that. I have many friends gathering in the Philippines because of the loss of a young woman, Aira. Her grieving husband is Jeremy. They had just celebrated six months of marriage.
There is no way around grief. And when Jeremy and my friends finally drift off to sleep tonight, they will be alone. Jeremy will be in his home that now has a large hole, although his young wife’s signature will be on everything she touched or arranged. The absence of her voice will be unescapable.
I remember that first night after my late wife passed away. My lovely Faylene remembers the night she was in her home after her late husband passed away. When quiet and aloneness finally register, it’s a feeling of loss like no other when a death breaks a covenant. When a parent loses a child, it is just as hard. Some say it is harder.
For some, grief passes slowly, taking years to feel upright. For others, it is faster but still intense. For a few, it leaves a pain that does not heal. For all, part of the grief is walking alone. Other parts are with caring friends, who stand by, invite you to dinner or take time to be alongside. Faylene went to grief classes three times. Family members stayed with her and helped her. It was two long years, and the second was worse than the first by her own testimony.
I had a close friend who kept talking to me and touching base in the days that followed the death of my late wife. While I was an engineer and a believer, I figured my walking through grief would not be too bad. The emotional roller-coaster surprised me. Even my best friend, Sid, asked, “Don’t you know when these things are going to happen?” I had no clue. My pragmatic approach was utterly devoid of solution. The images of my late wife before my loss slowly receded. People kept in touch. Faylene wrote a note to me as one of my closest female friends. She said to be patient with myself. It was going to take a while. She was right. When Sid went to be with the Lord, I remembered all over again.
Today as we talked and prayed for Jeremy and thought of our friends grieving and gathering half a world away, we know of so many other people that have walked this path. Some are still walking it. There is a Companion who helps. His name is Helper, or the Holy Spirit, or the Spirit of Christ. He is aware of our shocked systems when our loved ones die. He does not take away all the pain, but He is the place of retreat, the solid place when everything else seems uncertain and strange. Faylene remembers the time her heart was healed by the Holy Spirit. I remember when mine was healed. The quiet change was perceived by each of us. If you know the love of Christ and follow Him, something does happen with Him that eventually transforms the grief and starts to make us whole again. The comfort over time does something as well.
So, Jeremy and friends a half a world away, be patient, take heart, keep walking forward. The Companion is at your side, even in your heart. He is acquainted with grief.
Isaiah 53:3 He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.
Mathew 5:4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Psalm 116:15 Precious in the sight of the Lord [is] the death of His saints.
