Reality is something I ignored till twenty-four. Afraid facing the truth would obliterate me. It was easier to play happy, calm, contented—so I thought. There were losses. Ones I didn’t want to admit. Grief I had no stomach for. I thought I could think my way out of sadness. Stay positive reclining on the bright side.
The trouble with all that suppression…is depression.
We have the God-given release to grieve. Jesus was a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Grief is an indispensable part of the human condition.
I have no flowery words to make grief beautiful. It’s ugly. Nevertheless the grim has been given a spot on our timeline: a time to be born, and a time to die, a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance, a time to gain, and a time to lose. There be no getaway. If you haven’t grieved, you will. If you haven’t lost, it’s coming.
There is hope swirling in the same weighty air as grief: In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of your faith—the salvation of your souls.