Weeping Endures for the Night...

Weeping endures for the night...

2:02AM. The house is quiet, but for ticking clock on the wall, and snoring feline sprawled under the sofa. In two short hours the alarm will sound, oblivious to the fact that sleep’s lack has made its service unnecessary.

Preceding short nights meant struggles to be wakeful in the day. That miserable place of not being able to sleep yet not alert. Which meant a concerted effort to begin sleep earlier, this time. The only thing accomplished was to sleep through the window of opportunity to chat with the Trucker in Montana. And now sleep is over before it has rightly begun.

I wonder, if the long night will ever end. Yet fresh grief always comes with the dawn, a reminder of passing time with no healing. Nights are endured by hope for the day, but day just brings a longing for night, a futile hope that it will ease pain brought by the day.

In earlier times, loss meant mirrors were turned to the wall, windows and persons were draped in black. For months, even a year or more. Death was so much more commonplace that some women rarely had the opportunity to wear anything other than black, as before the year of mourning was over, another death had occurred.

Morbid, you say? Maybe. But in our high speed world, some things just cannot be rushed. Until you experience grief, you have no idea. Especially in our strong-work-ethic culture, where your worth comes from what you accomplish in a day. Grief is a work all its own, with no visible result, no sense of accomplishment at the end, because there is no end.

When the funeral and burial process is complete, it is assumed time to re-enter life. To move on. Return to work. Be productive. "Get over” the loss. But to “get over” a loss means the loss has to go away, and it never does. The gaping wound left when a loved one leaves your life cannot be filled by anyone else.

Time is needed, for which society does not allow space. Therefore, we do not heal. Our grief just goes underground. To fit society’s expectations. The demand to re-enter life as they know it, ready or not. So we go through the motions, while bleeding dry on the inside. Because the loss never truly goes away until that great Resurrection Day, grief is never fully “over” until then, either.

What, exactly, is grief? It is the bleeding of one’s spirit, the draining away of life, the wound when something or someone near and dear is yanked away. The physical body visibly sheds blood when crushed or broken, yet grief is unseen to the physical eye. We only see the symptoms. And we cannot feel another’s pain, or take it away, or fix it. We can only share it for a short while, sometimes.

But what happens when there is a loss, but no death? No funeral, no burial, no grave at which to mourn? What happens when there is silence and emptiness where once was sound and fullness? When possessions are sorted and packed, loaded and driven away leaving echoing rooms and the faint scent of a favorite perfume behind, yet the one lost still lives on earth….somewhere...willfully out of reach?

When you desperately need to cry, those tears you choked back will not be denied any longer, yet you are so tired of crying that you fight harder to control the emotion, knowing that it will break out at the worst possible time anyway.

When those around you react to the news in shock and sympathy, but have no idea how to help? When their best attempts don’t come close to touching your grief? When you desperately need someone, yet need to be alone at the same time? When they ask how you are doing, but there aren’t hours and hours to answer that question honestly? When they give up and go on with their lives, and you desperately want them to stay, yet have no reason to hold them and feel guilty for needing them? When you cannot blame them if they are weary of your story, your sadness? Quite frankly, you are tired of it too.

What about when the loss of your dear one has come about through betrayal by a trusted friend? When there are whispers and quick glances and uneasy shuffling and doubts about your character? Maybe you are withholding some information, maybe you ARE to blame for what happened, maybe we will not quite trust you anymore, after all? At least until you ask forgiveness? Trouble is, you don’t know what you are expected to ask forgiveness for.

When you begin to doubt yourself; maybe “they” are right, it is my fault, I should have done this, not done that? Yet you know from Scripture those voices are not true.

Grief is a burden no one ever asks for. It comes unexpectedly, with no owner’s manual, no time table. It is a STOP sign that cannot be circumvented, in a world that rushes on by. It is memories that whisper from every corner of life. It is the silence that shouts. It is emptiness when others are full. It is isolation, because no one else loved this precious one quite like you did.

There is only One who truly understands. Who cares. And will redeem the loss. In His time. For now, the message is what a friend texted to the Trucker on a particularly raw morning:

There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death. Romans 8:1-2

Therefore,

I cry out
For your hand of mercy to heal me
I am weak
I need your love to free me

Oh Lord, my Rock
My strength in weakness
Come rescue me, oh Lord

You are my hope
Your promise never fails me
And my desire
Is to follow You forever

--Craig Musseau

...but a shout of joy comes in the morning...Psalm30:5

Lord, we are still waiting for the morning...the fulfillment of Your promise.