We all grieve something in life, carrying something tender and unfinished. Sometimes it’s bad news from the doctor that rewrites your day in an instant. Sometimes it’s watching someone you love slow down, forget a little more, or struggle in a way you can’t fix. And sometimes it’s a living loss — someone who is still in the world, but no longer in your world.
There is always a reason to grieve, not because life is cruel, though it can be, but because life is connected. To love anything — a person, a dream, a version of yourself, a future you thought you had — is to eventually have to mourn it. As we move through our years, we don’t just collect memories, we collect goodbyes.
Some are loud and shattering, others are quiet and slow, like a tide going out.
Life doesn’t pause for our grief. The mail still arrives. The grass still needs mowing. The grocery store is still full of people buying bananas. We’re asked to keep going while part of us just wants to sit down in the middle of our sadness and stay awhile. But remember, it’s a gift from God to exist and with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that.
Growth is still possible while we are grieving. Not after, not once we have gotten over it, but smack dab in the middle of it. Grief and growth don’t take turns; they are roommates living in the same house. When you know what it is to lose, you begin to see people differently. You start to wonder about the clerk who is short with you or the neighbor who doesn’t wave, “What might they be grieving?” That wonder is compassion, and it is a kind of growth that only sorrow can teach. If you are grieving something right now, you are allowed to be both — sad and becoming, mourning what was while still curious about what could be next.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” – Matthew 5:4
Being About The Journey 