Theme: Grief
Scripture: Psalm 31:9 The New International
Version
Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief.
Devotional:
Grief. I tried to avoid writing about grief but, somehow, it has gripped me fiercely
since yesterday and refuses to let me go. The only way I know to exorcise my
reluctance is to ‘just do it” – write about it, that is.
Grief.
Some church
leaders are reluctant to join in a discussion about grief and loss because the
stakes are high. My assessment concludes
that we are fearful of the topic because it undoubtedly will lead to
reflections about the pain and suffering of others *and our personal losses. It
hurts to talk to others about their pain.
It is often unbearable to confront our *own pain. For me, I have had my
fair share of grief and loss – more than I care to count, especially in these
last few years. Yet, I have not experienced as much as others. Of course, this
is not an oppression Olympics so there’s no medal to procure for the person who
has suffered the most loss or experienced a lot of grief. Still, grief and loss, for some, is a
distant thought – until it lands on the ledge of our personal, physical, or professional
lives. There really is no perfect, ‘one-size-fits-all,’ method
for dealing with grief or loss.
Avoidance, distraction, or isolation may seem like good solutions, and
may seem to work for a period. All that
I have come to understand through my research and personal reflection, however,
suggests that these alternatives will eventually break down, forcing us to deal
with the loss and grief.
Today I shared lunch and space with the women of Questers @ FCC (thank you, Barbara Burleson, for the invitation). They fired questions at me about my life, work, and my family. However, it wasn’t until the question was asked of me, “Pastor Dawnn, you do a lot for so many people. So where do you go to refuel? How are you fed while you are feeding us?” Well, damn. I wasn’t prepared for that question (which if you know me in real life, you know *that doesn’t happen often. Smile!) But in that moment – right in that moment – I felt it. I am grieving. In real time. I am grieving. My answer to her was real. With my head bowed, I said, “I don’t know.” And my grief about that eclipsed the rest of the conversation.
Grief is not only when you’ve experienced the physical loss of someone. It is
much more expansive than that. And as I sit here now, reflecting on that question,
my response, and my grief, I am reminded of a resource that I use in trauma training
about grief (yea, I do whole trainings on this topic and completely missed it
for myself!). I discuss disenfranchised grief.
Disenfranchised grief explores the process – or lack thereof – of grief for persons who have experienced the loss of a meaningful or significant attachment. This loss, however, may not be openly recognized, socially validated, or publicly mourned by others thus rendering it disenfranchised. Whew! Yes, this is precisely what I am feeling - disenfranchised grief. This, for me, is different than the grief I experienced when my youngest brother died in 2022. Of course, I – eventually – grieved our loss. But lately relationships have changed. I lost a very meaningful connection with a young person. I have lost time with people who mean a lot to me. I am experiencing slight loss of hearing. My mobility – due to age and poor physical health – has been challenged. And the list continues. Perhaps some of you have lost fur babies, bodily autonomy, decision- making abilities, professional status’, driving privileges, or even a loss of certainty about what happens as you age, when you die, or as you change. These are all losses that, for many, are not – or cannot – be validated, recognized, or affirmed. This is grief –albeit disenfranchised – too.
This is getting long (but I have a lot more to say about this. Perhaps I will do a workshop, eh?) so I will tie it up here. As a pastoring person (who is also a mental health clinician – both helping professions), who isn’t clear about where I am refueled, filled, or replenished, I have a lot of grief related to a lack of container or places where I can get what *I need. I also have grief related to the fact that I couldn’t name that for myself – until I was asked publicly and couldn’t respond.
Now I am sitting in my office, reflecting on the experience, on the verge of crying and my heart prayer is “God, give me space to grieve. Give me a container in which I can pour my grief *and receive relief – for me. God, calm my anxiety about the scary world *and help me to realize that You are walking with me – even in my disenfranchised grief about the things I can’t control.”
Prayer:
See prayer above. If you want, you can say it,
too.
And for good measure, GOD HELP ME, is an excellent prayer, too!
Reflection Question:
What are you grieving? Is there space for grief
in your life? Even if it is a loss that others don’t validate, are YOU able to
name it? What do YOU need from God that feels like a response to your grief?
Wow. I had to read your devotional again because so much is there. I'm sure it took a lot of courage to tell us about your grief so thank you. I will pray that you find that place to release your grief so that you can be restored and refueled by God. I never thought about grief outside of the loss of a person by death. I'm currently dealing with the loss of a loved one so people always about that. But I realize now that have grieved (and still grieving) other things- the loss of a dream of traveling internationally because of finances, decreased ability to play sports because of arthritis, not being able to start learning a musical instrument. What helps me is to build space for the grief and restoration. If I'm sad because of grief, I don't run from it. I notice it, feel it and try to do something else. Sometimes I have repeat this process multiple times a day and it's exhausting. I also have made my environment more peaceful. I seldom watch the news on TV, I try to go to bed at a decent hour (even if things are left undone) if I haven't cooked dinner, get a (somewhat) healthy frozen entree and I listen to music-mostly instrumental classical. It has made a difference. Each day is different. The grief doesn't go away but it usually doesn't consume me. I hope you will find things that will help.
ReplyDeleteDear heart, thank you for your words, your prayers and your encouragement. I, too, am praying for relief and a space to pour my grief into. I love that you have built space for the grief. One of the things I often tell my clients is that it is important to notice, feel and not run from the grief. Again, admitting that I am a much better teacher than practitioner, I often do not make this space for *my grief. Your words are a reminder to do just that. I, too, no longer watch TV (news, sitcoms, reality, etc.). I have found a much more peaceful life minimizing my engagement with that. I have a pretty consistent bedtime and early rising time. My prayer/devotional life is very important to me so I make sure that is done regardless to what's happening in my life. AND I am grateful for these practices. Yes, I agree that each day is different *and the ways I grieve for each loss is different, too. I appreciate deeply your sharing and I do hope that I can find the specific tools that will help me to alleviate, manage and, eventually, sit with my grief. Thank you, again. Blessings as you continue on this journey!
ReplyDelete“Disenfranchised Grief”, a new category, term to me that seems to explain my never resolved, now unresolvable, grieving of my changed relationship with my dad, which hurt me to the depths of my daughter’s heart. It robbed me of my dear “whole” mom, who used to really enjoy the simple, typical, happily married wife and motherhood things of life
ReplyDeleteI grieve my dad, as well as my dear Mom, several times over. All reflective of me and my dad’s, sadly, forever changed, damaged relationship during my first semester in high school, when he abruptly did a 180 towards my Mom. My Mom was forever changed, as was our family rhythm, household, as well as our relationship with dad’s bloodline, and wrapped in the bitterness from my mom’s bloodline towards my dad.
Early one morning, my daddy’s girl abruptly woke up forever repositioned as an enemy combatant to a “mentally abusive” dad, who I’d never before met. And, also as a daughter who had to learn how to navigate a seriously broken, loudly combatant Mom.
Can say we never physically abandoned each other, instead embarked on a journey of living our new damaged family rhythm, which of course at times worsened all.
This also abruptly changed plans in place for me, once I’d finished high school. Truth, my altered journey, became a gift from God! Just as my fav’ scripture reads, “Beauty for Ashes.”
I also grieve my former self, as again, now, my deeply personal dream of achievement engulfs me. All of which has re-dipped me in the heavy weight of sorrow, anguish, sadness, something I’d thought I’d laid to rest. But now realize has always held a spot on my “distress” gauge, periodically flaring up as misery, and deeper depression.
Oh, from God - I need the health, all the necessary support, refocussed-brainpower, endurance to go the distance to achieve what, more and more, seemingly presents to me, now, as a “wholeness-need” of my life, a desire of my heart. Or, the mental capacity, resolution to forever calmly close “that” door, in order to completely, joyously embrace, enjoy, all the other beauty of my life!
Praying for you as well to also find peace, to more often come to embrace your available inner pieces of you, as a way to best journey your personal weighty grief, as a way to calm you, redirect you as needed, for the blessed good of self, Amen.
Thank you so very much for this deeply personal, thoughtful and vulnerable reflection. Your comment so resonated with stories I have held for other people who, too, had never heard of or explored disenfranchised grief. It is a lonely journey AND once you have a name for it, I believe it settles a little differently and we can attend to it properly. My heart is sad for your broken relationship with your father. I can imagine how the damage shifted how you feel/felt and how you engaged with him and your mother. The thing about relationships is that it is difficult to imagine repair when the pieces are so shattered. It's like, how do you repair shards of glass, some so small it is irreparable. I am blessed by your sharing your story and I, too, pray for God to restore your peace, send what you need for your heart. My prayer for me is the same -and thank you for seeing me, too. As you continue on this path of grief exploration, I pray that the parts of you that can recall *any of the good, safe and loving time, will be resurrected in your heart. Thank you for this gift!
Delete