When You Write A Book About Grief . . .
Be prepared . . . I get it! You thought you were just going to let it all spill out, put it down on paper, get to the happy ending where “life goes on” and be done with it!
But that’s not going to be how it happens! Not even close!
The first few pages, stories, poems come haltingly, tentatively. You won’t even really be sure what to write because it’s been so long since you wrote — and almost as long since you dealt with your grief. Neither gets easier until you deal with them!
As I started writing, even the most superficial piece, I felt myself going to places I hadn’t wanted to go — and still had no desire! Even though I’m self-aware and well-informed enough to understand that if I was ever going to move past the grief, I had to deal with it; explore it; evaluate it; examine it; write about it. I wanted to write about it to help others, but I knew I had to help myself first — or at least along the way.
I did persist, even on the days I just felt numb. I was tired of feeling numb and wanted to finally get on with life! Five years is too long! But once I started, it became easier. Some of the long-tamped-down emotions surfaced — which is what I had honestly hoped to avoid. But some days they came rushing over me like a wave in the ocean! And I cried! I don’t think I had cried about anything since my mom died!
Then I found a tenderness I hadn’t expected! God was revealing some hard truths to me, but He did so gently, incrementally. I had a lot to let go of — not just grief over mom’s death, but grief over so many things I’d done — or hadn’t done; things I said or didn’t say. So. Many. Regrets. But God has showed me that all of it can be refurbished and refined to serve as fuel for the fire that burns in me again!
I haven’t had any burning bush moments, but in my persistence, through my commitment to see this through to the end, I’ve found something in myself I never imagined. I can be transparent now. I can be authentic. I can be humble. Because I am really telling God’s story!
My faith is still bruised but it’s strong and and it has a new complexity I never could have imagined. It’s a faith that understands I will not always “get my way” but that it is because it is not what serves God’s purpose, not because I’m not deserving of my heart’s desire. God withholds in order to prepare us for what is coming. It never made sense before. I still don’t understand why my mom was taken from us. But I understand I would not be where I am now had I not experienced her loss.
I can’t change what has happened. I can only use the lessons to grow and learn and live more fully into the purpose laid out for me before I was born. God wants nothing less. He deserves nothing less. Because even when I turned my back on him, He stood in the gap for me.
It’s hard to explain. I still catch myself being surprised some days. Then other days I want to linger in the sadness. It takes a sheer force of will, still, not to stay there. But I am stronger than I ever imagined. I do choose joy. Even still-tempered joy. Because practice makes perfect. So each day I choose joy.
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