Living with Cystic Fibrosis is hard. I am reminded daily that my body does not work properly and that to continue to live, I must fight. Some days I become weary. Some days I feel sad. I’ve been learning lately to give myself space for grief. Grief is unpredictable. It can be triggered by an event or a period of intensified struggle, and sometimes it surges up unexpectedly.
I’ve had a few times recently were grief has darkened my day. These dark days have traditionally made me feel guilty. I regularly see quotes such as these:
Someone out there is praying for all the things you take for granted.
Remember, no matter how many problems you have, there is always someone who has more.
These sentiments surely have a place in our world. In our consumerist culture it is easy to be in a perpetual state of discontentment and lose sight of all our blessings. We complain about minor inconveniences. We take things for granted. Many of us, including me, have not suffered the extreme hardships of hunger, violence, abuse, or the loss of worldly possessions that are rampant in parts of our world. It is important to remember that and to retain a proper perspective.
Sometimes when a wave of grief hits me, it brings with it a big dose of guilt. The voice in my head berates me. You have no right to be upset. So many are suffering so much more. Many CFers struggle far more than you do. Remember all those healthy years you had. You have a loving husband, a beautiful son, a supportive family, true friends, a wonderful home. Look at all you can still do. And the list goes on.
It’s true. I am abundantly blessed and I know it. However, the pain in my life is real too, and sometimes I need space to grieve that. Sometimes I need to pour out my heart to God, lamenting the pain, explaining my hurts, expressing the sadness and disappointment. Grieving doesn’t have to be angry and bitter. It doesn’t have to indicate that I’m not trusting God, or that I feel sorry for myself, or that I’m not accepting my situation. Grieving doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m not thankful. It is possible to be grateful for all the good in my life, all the blessings, all the wonderful things that have come out of my challenges, even to be thankful for the challenges themselves while allowing myself to mourn the pain, the loss, and the ongoing adversity. Some specific struggles have endured for years with ups and downs, times of hope and times of despair, bends in the road, minor bumps and major setbacks. At times I feel tired and bruised. There is chronic hardship in my life that will never leave me. Barring a miracle, there is no end in sight on this side of eternity. It’s hard. It’s sad. And so I grieve.
Tears can be cleansing–a discharge of the pain bottled up within me. It’s as if their release waters the soil of my soul, making way for acceptance, joy, and peace to bloom once again. When I take my hurts to God, I find the grace I can’t always extend to myself. There is no guilt there, no pointing finger, no accusations, only the reassurance of God’s love and His presence. There is the reminder that while I will continue to struggle, I will never struggle alone. There is healing in that place of grief.
I felt compelled to write this post today. It’s definitely for me. This is something God is working out in my heart. Grief is a gift I’m learning accept without guilt and without comparison. But perhaps it’s for you too. Maybe you need to give yourself some space to grieve. Maybe it’s time to stop pretending that your pain doesn’t exist, isn’t that bad, or doesn’t matter. Maybe you need to allow those tears to fall so that true acceptance, joy, and peace might thrive in your life again. Maybe you need to hear God whisper to you how much He loves you, how much He cares, and how through it all, He will never leave you or forsake you.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5