Good Grief

At the Center for Global Action, I teach a course on emotional health called Restoring Your Identity.

This week, I taught about grief. We all gathered ’round to discuss the requisites for healthy mourning, and the importance of external and internal permissions. We talked about loss and limits, and shared from our own stories. We discussed Job, and the awesome example he sets for us to grieve in a healthy way. I was blown away by the responses to the journal prompts I give my class outside of our time together. I regularly am blown away by their responses. My students are getting very, very real with some very, very hard things. I felt honored to hear their thoughts and to share in their feelings. I feel great and overwhelmed about the fact that I have the incredible privilege to teach on a subject we just don’t talk about much in America.

“Emotion” tends to get a bad rap. It’s really the black sheep of the holistic family. We love talking about physical health, spiritual health, and social health. We’re making leaps and bounds in our ability to talk about mental health. But emotional health is still a pretty taboo topic. Emotions, in general, shouldn’t be talked about, shared, or given any sort of power.

Your feelings are hurt? Suck it up.

Are you crying? You’re acting like a little girl.

You feel left out? Stop being a baby.

Have you heard any of these things? Threw them around at someone else?

Friends, the lack of tolerance for normal human emotion is an epidemic that is causing people to hide who they really are. As Christians, we should be the first to embrace someone for being honest with who and where they are. Unfortunately, too often we instead force those around us into masks in order to protect what little identity and heart they have left after growing up in a culture of bullying and shame.

I came home last night  and sobbed over the dinner table to my husband about a million different things I had been stuffing down instead of processing through. I mean I cried like I haven’t cried in ages. Ugly crying. Huge tears, choking on snot, and gasping-for-breath kind of crying.

And you know what?

That man, an engineer by degree and a thinker/fixer by nature, sat next to me and let me cry it out. He asked thoughtful questions, and validated my feelings and wounds. His tone was gentle, and his hand was readily available to pat and touch and soothe. And hand over more tissues. He made space for me to be me, and in those moments ‘being me’ meant being very, very upset.

And you know what? I didn’t stay there. I didn’t crumble under the horrible weight of my emotions after I got them off my chest. I blew my nose, cried a little more, thanked my husband for listening and making me feel supported and loved, and then I moved on.

I think we’re all just a little bit afraid that if we let someone truly experience their emotions in a real way, they- or we- will drown in the thick of it. I think it’s one of the main motivating factors of our lack of tolerance.

But the reality is that with a little encouragement, a little grace, and a lot of love, we can become safe places for people to share honestly where they are, and then move forward.

The handful of times I’ve cried to The Professor and he’s tried to fix the problem or fix me resulted in a prolonged season of hurt with an extra addition of resentment on top.

But the times he’s listened and loved and nodded and understood have resulted in my ability to move forward from processing into grieving, and ultimately to release and health.

You know what? We serve a God of emotions. There is descriptive language wrapped all throughout the Old and New Testaments of the emotions and feelings of God. He demonstrates anger (Ps 7:11, Deut. 9:22), grief (Gen. 6:6, Ps. 78:40), jealousy (Exo. 20:5, Joshua 24:19), joy (Zeph. 3:17, Jer. 32:41), compassion (Judges 2:18, Deut. 32:36), and laughter (Ps. 37:13, Prov. 1:26). This should not be surprising to any of us. We are created to reflect Him, and He is a God of emotions.

 

There is also story after story of someone crying out to Him, and guess what? He. Is. Not. Shaken.

David. Job. Moses. Ezekiel. Samuel. Nehemiah. JESUS. The list goes on. It includes my name. It includes the name of many women I know and love. And men!

And you know what? God has not been shaken. He has not been torn from His throne, He has not been shocked, and He has not fainted in the face of my distress or grief or anger.

But He has listened. And understood. And soothed. He has allowed me to be honest with how I truly feel, and has accepted me in my worst moments, and allowed me to move forward.

If we don’t recognize our own emotions because we have been taught that to give them attention is sinful, we are missing out. We cannot connect with the Lord, our own identity, or even truth, without an acute ability to be fully connected to what is happening in and through us.

Did you know that depression is often misdiagnosed? There can be a very real problem with chemical imbalances, I know. But often times what we call ‘depression’ is actually incomplete grieving. (You can learn more about this, and other important things, here). More often than not, we don’t know that we’re grieving something, and we definitely don’t have the tools to do so well. We don’t know what’s going on, or- when we do- we ignore, or stuff, or rationalize, or blame, or avoid at all costs through busyness or addiction (to drugs, to television, to food, to shopping). We end up stuck in this limbo of pain, sadness, or apathy, and we call it depression.

If we cut off our ability to recognize and experience pain, anger, sadness, grief, and loss, we actually cut off our ability to experience joy, gladness, peace, hope, and love.

That is the gospel truth.

And without the ability to experience joy, gladness, peace, hope, and love, I daresay we cannot experience the reality or realness of God Himself. He is joy. He is hope. He is love. And He is unafraid in the face of our distress.

We should be unafraid as well.

We should be teaching ourselves, our friends, our children, our enemies to recognize and acknowledge what we’re feeling. We should be extending grace and patience and kindness and understanding to those in turmoil. We shouldn’t try to fix. We shouldn’t try to block. We shouldn’t ever judge or mock.

Because grief is a part of this gift called life.

EARTH IS NOT HEAVEN. 

And we are not promised luxury or ease.

But we are promised truth and connection.

But only through being honest about where we are, what’s happened to us, and how it affects us emotionally can we begin to truly understand and experience that connection, not just with God but with each other.