Joy in Place of Grief

I'm dealing with my grief much better this week. I believe that's because of two things:

1. I went to church Sunday
2. I realized how selfish my grief is

The sermon Sunday wasn't directly related to grief, but it did affect my thoughts about death. The current sermon series is on the Bible book of Daniel. Daniel is a book of prophecy. All Bible prophecy is about the promise we Christians hold for our salvation. 

While the pastor talked on various verses, I kept reflecting on the fact that we are living in the "end times", and that no matter how long those times might last, every person - saved or not - lives their own end times because of our mortality.

My sister believed on the blood of Jesus Christ. The last hours she was alive, she called out His name and prayed, even though she was in so much discomfort. I believe now that she was praying and yearning for rest. I believe her rest was granted.

Yesterday, while I was going through some of her things, I prayed to God to help ease my sense of loss. I'm not breaking down at every memory of my sister like I was earlier on. I still have moments of pain at the "gone-ness" of her, but I feel more relief and joy as every hour passes. I think of what we all have been promised as Christians. I think of the Henry Van Dyke poem that my dear friend +Sandy Sandmeyer shared with me: 

Gone From My Sight (by Henry Van Dyke)

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,

spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,

hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

So now, when I think of my sister (and my mother and father and my brother), I think of their gain more than I think of my loss. While I realize, as my little brother just told me in a recent phone call, that our grief is normal, I know that it can also be selfish.

My sister would be heartbroken to think of any of us wallowing in our misery at her death. She would want us to think of her with love and laughter, not regret and pain. She would want us to go on. Mostly, she would want us to know that her death was not an end for her but a beginning.

I still miss her, but I am better now. Now when I think of her, I try to imagine the joy of those who were calling out to her as she arrived on the other shore. 

We have been promised that there is no weeping in Heaven and, if I believe in that promise, I must put away my time of weeping here on earth for those who are now Home. I'll save my sorrow for those who don't yet believe in life everlasting.

If you are in pain from the loss of a loved one, here are some of God's promises that may help comfort you as they did me:

In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? (John 14:2)

And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. (2 Corinthians 5:1)

My favorite right now is Luke 23:43 because it reminds me that my sister went immediately into Paradise. Immediately. And it reminds me that my brother who, like the thief beside Jesus on the cross, was accepted into Heaven even though he found Jesus very shortly before death. Praise God.

Peace

--Free