Grief a year on…

Warning: this is a long and extremely honest look back over my grief journey during the past 12 months. Today marks the first anniversary of Mum’s death. What a year it has been; none of us could have predicted that just after we said goodbye to her, the world would be thrust into a pandemic. That everything we took for granted would suddenly be pulled out from under us. And that a year later, we would still be living under restrictions with the death toll, and mental health toll, continuing to rise each and every day.

MY JOURNEY

I have had many responses over the last year, some probably due to ‘normal’ grief and others directly related to what we are all living through.

A little over a month after Mum died, I led my last worship service in our church building before we shut down. (On Mother’s Day – not great planning to put myself down on that day.) And then we were thrust into the busyness of getting the church online. While my husband (our lead pastor) had a great tech guy helping him as they hurriedly learned new skills, our family was heavily involved week by week. The ongoing pastoring of those in our church was something I gladly undertook with him too. 

Until the times when I felt overwhelmed. And then I began to realise I had a little resentment rising up. Not about helping others, but simply that I hadn’t had the time or space to grieve. And that my grief had actually been overshadowed by our nation’s, by the world’s, grief. From my perspective, that didn’t seem fair. But that was closely followed by guilt for feeling that way, especially when I had had the privilege of sitting next to my mum for the ten days it took for her to go and be with Jesus. 

Night and day I had remained in my parent’s home, and the final night we sat in her room with her until she took her last breath in the early hours of the next day. I know so many have lost loved ones this year without being able to say goodbye in person, and my heart aches for them. I have also thought, too, of those trapped in deep poverty who are dealing with the same kind of chronic illnesses Mum had. Although Mum’s life was difficult, her home was comfortable.

I have railed at God, asking him deep and personal questions about suffering that I have wrestled with over the years. But, for all my railings, there have often been times of being overcome with thankfulness too, that God took Mum when he did. One of the many diseases she had was a respiratory one, and I know she would have been particularly susceptible to, and petrified of, Covid. Just a month later and we may well have been saying goodbye from afar too. And I am so grateful her final days contained no knowledge of what was to come.

RENEWED FAITH

Recently, I have been engaging with the twice daily zoom calls for the young woman Hannah, struck down suddenly with a bleed on the brain. I know her family and husband of just a few short months may have initially opened up those calls to anyone out of desperation, in order to get as many people as possible praying for her. But they have become a source of inspiration, faith and unity for so many, as well as upholding them in their incredible personal journey. 

The honesty and openness with which they have generously shared their raw pain but also huge faith in the goodness of God has been a breath of fresh air and life to me. I am passionate about honesty within the Church, and it is so refreshing to see how willing they are to share. But it has also reawakened faith and stirred up passion in me again. That was something I desperately needed, and hadn’t realised how much it had dulled until it had been reawakened. 

RECOGNISING THE IMPACT

The years of painful, unanswered prayers and the impact that has had on our unsaved dad as well as Mum have taken their toll. As a church leader I have felt guilty for not having huge levels of faith when praying for the sick, although I have always fully believed that God can and is willing to heal miraculously today. I have certainly known the truth of this verse: ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick’ (Proverbs 13:12).

I know that God’s ways are higher than ours, but there are times when we really do wonder what he is up to! I certainly questioned his methods when Mum went to church in a wheelchair and came out running…but it didn’t last. Surely a miraculous, lasting healing would have made more sense and had a bigger impact on Dad? But I have to trust her quiet, determined and immensely strong faith in the midst of such trouble and affliction spoke even louder

CONTINUED WRESTLING

That is not to say I don’t still have doubts, and questions. It has been incredible to listen to the stories of miraculous healings from others who have come on the zoom calls to encourage and spur on Hannah’s family – stating that because God healed their family member or friend he will do it for her. I do rejoice and my faith does rise, but so too do the questions.

I totally understand that when a young woman like Hannah is suddenly struck down it isn’t right, and the Church should be praying for healing and against any work of the enemy.

But…

It makes me ask – what about those who aren’t healed? What about those dear, faithful Christians who live with chronic illnesses for years. Specifically, what about my mum?

I know she was an older woman, who had suffered tremendously in her last few decades. But she had actually been ill for much of her life. We almost lost her just after I was born – and that certainly cemented the end of her relationship with my biological father. While she did embrace life and did achieve much, my childhood and adolescence were littered with sickness, and life or death operations became all too familiar over the years.

So, there is a deep pain, and many questions there, which I continue to wrestle with at times. 

For Mum the question changed from ‘why me?’ to ‘why not me?’. She felt she needed to give up her right to understand. There were moments when darkness enveloped her but she always clung to the knowledge that God was with her even when she couldn’t sense his presence

A CALL TO PRAYER

I do know God is good, and I know that Mum always stood on that truth. I know her resolute faith in the midst of severe, life-altering pain spoke to many, not least me, and I hold on to the promise that her example will one day draw Dad to his own faith. 

Mum clung on to life for many extra months, even when she was desperate to go home, just to see Dad’s salvation. That is, until my sister and I spoke to her of letting go – that we may be the ones to see the fruition of the promise God gave her so many decades ago.

When her strength was fading and her physical abilities shrunk her world to their living room, Mum began to feel useless. Then God spoke to her about the need for her prayers, because so many are too busy these days to be the prayer warriors he looks for. She took up that call and prayed faithfully for all those God placed on her heart

That is a mantle I believe God is waking us all up to, and that the situation with Hannah is helping with too. Yes, we have authority as God’s children and yes, our prayers do make a difference. My mum, as her life was ebbing away and she was crippled with pain, refused to stop praying. It became much more difficult but she never gave up. The importance of prayer is something that I have learned from her, and have had emphasised in recent weeks on the zoom calls.

MUM’S LEGACY

I think the best way I can honour Mum’s memory is by being as stubborn in my absolute faith and trust in God as she was – and by going deeper in my prayer life too.

So, while I may still have questions, and while the waves of grief still feel overwhelming at times, I thank God for who my mum was, and the legacy that she has left behind.

PS And, as Steve and I have spent recent days working hard on the final checks and publicity for our book Grace-filled Marriage, I have often paused and smiled, thinking of how I can’t wait to send a copy to Rob and Hannah.

We have stories from other couples in the book, who have faced unexpected difficulties and pain and seen God’s grace uphold and sustain them. They too will have an incredible story to tell about one of the most challenging periods of their married life and what God did in and through them…

Finding our secure place in the darkness

I have held off writing about the current coronavirus pandemic, mainly because I haven’t really had a chance to formulate my thoughts much before now. Working from home (which I usually do but now there’s an extra workload), as well as helping my kids navigate online schooling, there are precious few moments of quiet in any given day. I think it is important not to simply jump on the bandwagon of making a comment without having something to say. There have also been some incredibly helpful articles out there, that I have really appreciated (as well as some scaremongering that I’ve learned to ignore).

I also know that I’m in a process of grieving – for my mum, for my dad who has not only lost his wife, but has lost all sense of community since the lockdown and is so, so lonely. It breaks my heart every time I think of him alone, surrounded by the memories of mum but with no one there to process it with. I long for him to know his maker…But that is all mixed up with a general sense of grief and loss for what is happening right now, across the world. I know there are so many who didn’t get the chance to sit next to their dying relative, as we did, and I can’t quite imagine what they are going through now. And so many who are unable to attend a family member’s funeral – how difficult not to have that closure; it seems so cruel. My heart bleeds when I see the news (so much so that I made a conscious decision not to watch it every day anymore, as I sensed my stress levels rising). 

Our world has certainly been stopped in its tracks. And, while I don’t believe God has brought the virus as judgement upon us, because God sent Jesus not to judge the world but to save all those in the world who put their faith in him* (John 3:17–18), I do believe there are lessons we are meant to learn as Christians from this time. Of course, we are meant to learn at every other time too, but this certainly seems more urgent (but also more difficult for many of us – those working around the clock in hospitals, care homes, schools and supermarkets barely have time to rest their bodies let alone nourish their spirits. But God has grace for each one of us, in our specific situations too.)

Many people have commented that they don’t want to go back to normal once this is over – indeed it has been said so many times that some are getting tired of hearing that statement. For now, I think God is calling us back to him, calling us to repent of the ‘gods’ of materialism, busyness, individualism – and anything else we’ve allowed to take his place, even in small, subtle ways. He is a jealous God, but also a loving one, and, if we take time to listen, he is calling us back, calling us closer.

I sense a need for repentance in my own life, and collectively in the Church, but I also know God is wooing us with gentle tenderness, offering comfort and hope – so that we can offer the same to those around us by pointing them to Jesus. I keep being reminded of these verses:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. (2 Corinthians 1:3–5). 

I know that this is a bewildering, difficult, painful time for so many of us, punctuated with some unexpected moments of deep joy as we see the sacrifices people are making for one another, and the rise in a collective sense of community. Let us be those that draw close to God in order to receive the comfort that we need, which may mean giving ourselves permission to rant and rail when we need to, to sit and howl at the desperate plight of so many (perhaps ourselves if we are currently battling the virus in our family or friendship groups). But let’s also give ourselves time to be reminded of the ultimate, eternal hope that we have in Christ Jesus, who: ‘For the joy that was set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God’ (Hebrews 12:2). 

We might not understand what is going on right now, and we may have myriad questions for God about the situation, but we can be reassured that Jesus is on his eternal throne, and he will never be shaken from it. That is the secure place from which we can wrestle and allow ourselves to accept the difficulties and darkness of this time – and be open to the transformation and change God may have for us in it.

*I love this quote from Phil Moore’s excellent piece on what we can learn from the message of Revelation in the upcoming May issue of Premier Christianity magazine: ‘World history is not going to end with a deadly virus or a nuclear holocaust. God’s plan for humanity will not end with a funeral, but with a wedding.’ That is a sneak preview, as I’ve been helping out with the magazine – it is packed full of helpful articles about the virus and church in this time. You can request a free copy of the magazine – wait until Monday to ensure you are getting this issue, if you would like to, but then click here. You can, of course, also sign up for a subscription…