Grief is exhausting. Bone-tiring, heart-numbing, mind-fogging sorrow mixed with moments of happy memories shared with those who walk this journey with you. A proverbial roller-coaster of emotion that never stops. Everything in me screams, “I want off!” or at least, “I want to go back.”
Such an inexpressible feeling – vacillating between deep sorrow down to my bones and other-worldly joy in my soul. I can only describe it as holy grief. God’s promise is that He is with me and Brandon is with Him, so the reality is that we are together and all is well – not in this temporary world of illusion but in the real world of All-things-made-right forever.
I came across this scripture yesterday and really had to meditate on it for a long time to let it sink in:
“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)
In other words, the things of this world, the pain and persecution as well as the grand and glorious, will all pass away.
I know in my spirit that this life is only a blip on a screen but to be honest, it feels like a giant blip most of the time. A giant blip with a huge empty spot where my son used to be. These days I feel like I’m hovering between the pain of this life and the promise of the next. I live between the “seen”, where my heart is broken in a million pieces and the “unseen,” where my spirit knows it will all be restored, renewed, reunified in eternity. I’m stuck between the almost and the not yet.
Some days are better than others. Some days are crushing. Some days I would give anything to have him back. But as we tend to our hearts that keep crying out, “No!” we have peace that passes understanding because of Brandon’s “Yes!” to God. We know he is playing his music and laughing with the angels in freedom and complete peace.
And until we are reunited, the truth that comforts me the most is that the same God that holds me, holds Brandon so we are still connected, still loved, still together. Nothing can separate us as long as God is true to His word.
“He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:17)
5 thoughts on “Holy Grief”
Mel you are a living proof of faith in God and you’re living out your faith in every breath you take. It isn’t easy but we know this is a journey to our heavenly Father
While I have not experienced such intimate grief, I find myself immersed in yours and wondering how I would respond were similar circumstances to engulf me. I fear. I don’t want to, I just do. I don’t want to imagine, but my thoughts turn to ‘what if’ numerous times a day. Your comments are both beautiful and terrifying. I am crushed for your loss. I trust God and can only pray he is a shield around my loved ones. God bless you for your courage to share raw emotions bridled by scripture. It is comforting. Reassuring. I pray for your family. I pray for all of us. My passionate hope is that 2020 brings closure, happiness and yes, even joy.
Thank you for being you.
Kenny, You and Kay are so faithful in your friendship to us. As to prayer for God’s protection over our children, I still don’t understand how that works. I KNEW that God would redeem, heal and deliver Brandon and give him a testimony of grand proportions – I just thought it would be this side of heaven. So I can only say with conviction, His ways are higher and ultimately, our life on earth is not the end game. Our souls are secure and we are sealed by Him for eternity’s sake.
Dear Melanie, I am amazed and humbled by how you are sharing this unfathomable time of grief at the loss of your precious son, Brandon. Your faith and emotions are bared for all of us to see. I am thankful that you are held by our God who is more immense than the greatest burdens we can bear. You are in my thoughts and prayers today. Love, Kay
Your FB repost of your blog prompted me to visit here again. You know me well enough to know I have no words. I would sit with you in silence, or listen to you for hours, cry and laugh with you. If I could. Food would be required.