Blessed are those who mourn

Grief is a tricky process. There are many different layers and each person journeys through that process a little bit differently. Some people are external processors, best expressing their pain and sorrow through tears or talking about the situation. Others are internal processors, presenting a strong front while reflecting and dealing with their emotions within themselves. I am a crier, I always have been and likely always will be. When tragedy strikes in my vicinity my first response is to cry. This is problematic for me because I often don’t feel I have the right to cry over a tragic situation that doesn’t directly affect me. More often then not I find myself frantically trying to hide my tears and deal with my emotions later. I really hate crying in front of other people.

            

Recently at work, we’ve had a string of kiddos on our inpatient unit who came to us out of tragic circumstances. These are kids that I don’t necessarily work with directly, but see in the gym on a daily basis. One patient was in a car accident and in the last couple weeks has come out of the fog of her brain injury to realize she lost most of her family in that accident. There was a day where she perseverated on this realization and her cries could be heard throughout the department as every 3-5 minutes it seemed she was just learning this fact for the first time. There was a child recovering from a brain tumor resection, undergoing chemotherapy while trying to learn how to walk again, a skill that only a few months earlier was second nature. And then there have been a couple near drowning cases that may be the hardest of all. Looking at them you can imagine the active child they used to be, but now their life and the lives of their family members have been drastically altered forever. Of course, in each of these cases, there is always hope, and graciously God gives the families and us as providers little victories to celebrate. But there are still times when all I want to do is cry for the tragedy and heartbreak. In school, we are taught the importance of staying emotionally disconnected from our patients and setting personal boundaries, but when you look into the faces of these precious kids and their families that task seems impossible.

            

This past Monday, I learned that a member of our Belmont soccer family passed away. He was someone that I wasn’t personally close to but we ran in the same circles and we’d often exchange pleasantries on the way to or from class or practice. He was always a nice guy and an important member of the Belmont community. I hadn’t spoken to him since I left Nashville but still felt a profound sense of sadness at the news of his passing. I was sad about a life that seemed to end too soon and for the many people he left behind. After hearing the news I was able to stay composed at work, but by the time small group rolled around, I was having a hard time keeping my tears at bay. When the pre-study question randomly picked out of 1001 options was “How do you comfort those around you when tragedy strikes?” I couldn’t hold them back any more. My answer to that question was I don’t know. I didn’t know how to be a comfort to those who were most hurting because I didn’t even understand what I was feeling. I was at least a 14-hour drive away from those who were most affected and hadn’t spoken to many of them in years but I wanted to do something.

            

As our time together in small group progressed, God used his word to speak peace into what I was feeling. We are in the middle of studying John, but the topic of blessings came up. What exactly is a blessing? We flipped over to the book of Matthew and started reading through the beatitudes. Matthew 5:4 says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” I had been feeling unworthy of mourning Suse’s passing because I wasn’t a close friend, but God reminded me of Romans 12:15, “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” The context of this verse is Paul teaching the Romans about love, something I have been praying to understand more deeply. Mourning reveals our vulnerability and weakness as human beings. It is here that God meets us to provide his comfort and the blessing of his love to us. When we mourn together, we are stripped of our pretense and our true selves are laid bare. It is a place where we aren’t trying to impress one another and our sincere love for one another can be expressed.

So today, on my day off of work, I am mourning. I am mourning in Spirit with my Belmont family and Eric’s family as I bring them before God, asking for peace, comfort, and blessing as they grieve, honor, and celebrate his life. I am mourning for the kids and the families at work who’s lives have been forever changed and each day fight for a new sense of normal. I mourn because we live in a world where children get cancer, people die in car accidents, or families are told their child will never walk again. Tomorrow I may rejoice because his mercies are new every morning, but today I will mourn. As I mourn, I experience comfort and peace from a loving Father who’s heart breaks with mine over the pain of this broken world. He reminds me of Jesus’ words before he went to the cross, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” ~John 16:33 (NIV).  “These things” are not only the lessons Christ taught with his words, but how he lived his life. He wept and experienced grief for those whom He loved and for a broken and hurting world. It does no good to stuff or disconnect from my feelings of grief, I must experience them and bring them to the feet of Christ, allowing his peace to wash over my soul and deepen my love and compassion for the grieving world around me. The blessing he gives to the mourning is comfort and hope that while in this world we will have trouble, he has overcome the world. There is hope and peace in His name.

Psalm 23:

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be

            in want.

He makes me lie down in green

            pastures,

He leads me beside quiet waters,

            He restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness

            For his name’s sake.

Even though I walk

            Through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

            For you are with me;

Your rod and your staff,

            They comfort me.

You prepare a table for me

            In the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

            My cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me

            All the days of my life,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord

Forever.