Where do we take our grief?
We live in a culture that doesn’t know how to grieve.
It’s partly because we don’t have the space for it. Most of us live at a pace that continually drives us forward to the next crisis or opportunity. Grief takes time. It asks us to stop and linger.
It’s partly because our culture prioritizes comfort. Grief is uncomfortable. The places it asks us to linger are painful and the longer we stay there the more pain we see.
But mostly, we don’t know how to grieve because we were simply never taught how. Often, we were told to stop complaining and move on because other people have it worse.
Other people have it worse. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that pernicious phrase. Beneath that phrase is the lie that grief belongs only to those who have suffered the most in this life. Beneath that phrase is the lie that to grieve is to complain, and complaining is for those too weak to pull themselves up out of the suffering.
I’ve even uttered that phrase myself. I let it slip once to a counselor I was seeing years ago. As soon as I spoke it, I knew I was caught. I’d used the same phrase I’d countered so many times before. I still remember my counselor’s response, which I’ve repurposed hundreds of times since. “If I have a broken leg and you break both of your legs, does that heal my broken leg?” No, we are both in pain.
As a culture, we limp around on broken legs, pretending to be fine. Sometimes we even demand that others be fine when they aren’t. But broken bones, left unattended, heal in garish and dysfunctional ways. Unprocessed emotional wounds can often be the same.
Sometimes they become an addiction that soothes the pain for a moment but dulls our sense of pleasure as well. Sometimes they become a mid-life crisis that blows up a marriage and sends shrapnel into the hearts of our children. Sometimes they come out in bursts of anger and abuse to those around us. As Sigmund Freud famously said, “Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.”
What if we chose to tend to the broken places instead of ignoring them?
When my wife suddenly passed away, there was no way to bury the tears. Grief poured out of me until it seemed that there was nothing left. But when friends and family returned to their lives and I was thrust into the life of single parenting, the old lie came back. Other people have it worse. You’ve got to move on. Stop complaining. Don’t let anyone see you crying.
I am grateful for a coach and a counselor who invite me back to grief. I am grateful for friends who know that there is no should in grief, it simply comes out however and whenever it wants. I am grateful for these relationships where I can safely process my grief.
Mostly, I am grateful for a God that does not buy into the lie. Our laments are not met with reminders that other people have it worse. He actually desires to hear our prayers of grief. He doesn’t look away from the suffering; he seeks out the broken hearted. When he finds us he will not rebuke our tears, but will tenderly wipe them away.
Until that day, the best thing we have on this side of heaven is grief. Time will not heal all wounds—nor will grief. But by processing our grief in connection with others, we can move toward healing and growth. We can set the bones in the right place and possibly—through God’s grace—even make the broken places stronger.
Are you limping through your grief at the moment? Do you have wounds that have been buried alive? Do you wonder if your past pain is showing up in unwanted ways in the present? Don’t wait until it’s too late. Reach out to Good Shepherd Soul Care or someone else today.
