The Face of Grief

     

     As the first anniversary of my mother’s death is fast approaching, I’ve been reflecting on the moment the phone call came that announced my mother’s arrival in heaven and absence from this earth. It was the moment her hope and joy were finally realized, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like-to see Jesus face-to-face. But, at the same time, my heart was a churning mixture of shock, sorrow, and joy. It may seem odd to you that I’d add joy into that concoction, but I was truly joyful knowing that she was no longer suffering, and she was now standing, or perhaps kneeling before the throne of grace. To borrow words from Charles Spurgeon, “However severe the struggle, the victory has been won, the laboring vessel was severely tossed by the waves, but she has now entered into the desired haven.” Her eyes were beholding glory, while my heart was flooded with grief. Grief is a 5 letter word that seems so small and insignificant, but in actuality is quite weighty. What we do in the moments following our impact with grief set the trajectory for our lives in the weeks, months, and years to come. My children watched in their own dismay as I hung up the phone and fell to the floor drowning in tears. With everything in me, I confessed through the sorrow what my mind knew and my heart longed to fully comprehend, “To live is Christ. To die is gain!” (Phil 1:21)  To die.IS.gain. In that moment, my mother gained all she’d ever hoped for. Eternal life was realized as she met her Savior face-to-face.

     After my mother’s funeral, during my quiet time, I found myself turning daily to the book of Psalms. The laments of the Psalmist resonated with my spirit as a soothing balm for my grief-filled soul. During that time, I came across Charles Spurgeon’s sermon entitled, “The Man of Sorrows,” which he delivered in 1853. With his poignant words he writes, “Christ is in all attitudes the consolation of Israel, but He is most so as the man of sorrows. Troubled spirits turn not so much to Bethlehem as to Calvary; they prefer Gethsemane to Nazareth. The afflicted do not so much look for comfort in Christ as He will come a second time in splendor of state, as to Christ as He came the first time, a weary Man, and full of woes. The passion flower yields us the best perfume; the tree of the cross bleeds the most healing balm. Like in this case cures like, for there is no remedy for sorrow beneath the sun like the sorrows of Immanuel. As Aaron’s rod swallowed up all the other rods, so the griefs of Jesus make our griefs disappear. Thus you see that in the black soil of our subject, light is sown for the righteous; light which springs up for those who sit in darkness, and in the region of the shadow of death. Let us go, then, without reluctance to the house of mourning, and commune with “The Chief Mourner,” who above all others could say, “I am the man that has seen affliction.” In one sense I was deeply comforted to know Jesus understood my ensuing grief, but alternatively, Spurgeon’s writing exposed the truth of Isaiah 53:3 NLT which names my Savior “a man of sorrows,” who was acquainted with “deepest grief.” If my Savior was acquainted with grief, so will I be in my pursuit of Christ-likeness. To be “acquainted with” implies personal experience or a familiarization. To be familiar with grief? My first thought was, “No thank you. I’ll pass.” But, the igniting truth is: None of us gets a pass from grief in this life, and grief is the key to intimacy with Christ. Grief is its own type of gift-the gift of intimacy. In my experience, grief can be described as a severe sorrow of piercing mental anguish. It can appear as a never-ending assault on your heart and your mind. Walking through grief can feel as if you’re suffocating, and every step forward is a forced, willful opportunity to evade the darkness and step back into the calmness of light. But, once we experience grief, life is never the same, and I’m not sure that it’s supposed to be. Grief is meant to change us.

     Grief is the protagonist in our salvation story all the way back to the Garden of Eden. It is the antithesis of the deceptive American prosperity gospel. Jesus didn’t promise health, wealth, and flourishing, favorable circumstances in life. In fact, he declared, “In this life you will have tribulation” (John 16:33 KJV). Tribulation can be defined as, “grievous trouble,” or causing grief. If life is smooth sailing, you should probably question who you’re following. The secret is: Intimacy with God happens in the darkest of times, in the brokenness of life, during grieving seasons, and unfavorable conditions. If God is only good when “life is good,” that is shallow faith. Grief is the means by which our faith is conditioned to grow. Grief and brokenness are the well-traveled roads for the authentic Christ follower. They are the roads that will lead to our “happily ever after,” it just won’t be this side of heaven.