The Multidimensionality of Grief

The APA Dictionary of Psychology defines the word “grief” as the anguish experienced after an external loss, which can also take the form of “sorrow for a mishap to oneself”.

What all that big English is basically trying to say is that grief can sometimes look like this: “I miss who I used to be before this or that happened”, or “I wish I never said that to this or that person”, or a fan favourite, “I wish I had never met this or that person”. It exists in those moments where you long for or miss a version of yourself that no longer exists.

As I write this, Isaiah 43:18-19 is sitting gallantly at the top of my head.

“But forget all that—it is nothing compared to what I am going to do. For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.”

Honestly the longer it sits there, the harder it becomes for me to accept it.

Forget ke? How could the Lord ask that of me? Can He not see exactly how those events marked and changed the course of my life forever?

But even now, I am realising by the help of the Holy Spirit that perhaps this isn’t a command to erase my past, but an invitation not to be imprisoned by it.

Because if all I ever do is look behind me, I’ll miss the pathway He’s making ahead of me. If I keep looking at the wilderness behind me, I may never notice the river He’s already causing to flow in front of me.

So to everyone reading this, let this be our invitation to the self same call. It’s okay if you still miss who you or how things used to be. It’s okay if you still feel hurt by their actions anytime you remember. Grief, in all honesty, has no expiry date. God is close to us when we’re broken hearted and saves us when our spirits are crushed (Psalm 34:18).

But let us remember that if we desire to live in the freedom that comes from belonging to the Son, we should not build a home there.

Writing this now, I believe that’s why God says, “See, I am doing a new thing.” Not because the old doesn’t matter, but because He loves you and I so much that He refuses to let the old hurt and pain we’ve endured be the end of our stories.

Weeping may endure for a night, but there will be unfathomable joy in the morning. In the mean time, my beloved friends, we must keep moving forward.

The “worst” is never the worst (Lamentations 3:30, MSG).