If there is one thing I have learned in this whole grieving process
after losing my dad,
IT IS OKAY TO BE SAD.
Our culture is so obsessed with happiness that sorrow makes
us completely uncomfortable. I sometimes wish I could wear sackcloth and ashes
on my head like in Biblical times so people will know to treat me with extra
kindness and grace. Instead, I wear a black watch to proclaim my state of
mourning, even if I am the only one who knows. Oh to live at Downton and wear awesome
black dresses for months at a time and have a lady’s maid- but that is another
post!
We are so uncomfortable with public grief that people ask
how I am doing but don’t really want to hear the answer. When someone asks, “Are
you okay?,” I sometimes say, “No…I know I will not truly be okay until I get to
heaven, and I will spend the rest of my life learning to be ‘okay’ with that.”
Debbie Downer…awkward
silence…crickets…
Losing Dad was the turning point, the hinge that opened the
door to true suffering and sorrow for me. It ushered in a new season in my
life, as I feel like much of who I am is now defined by who I was before and
after his death. I have always been an
expert cryer, but since Dad’s death, the tears fall in gushing gallons at
times.
A friend told me once
that tears are worship- evidence that this is not how it was supposed to be,
proclaiming our longing for all that is fallen to be restored. A believer’s tears shout to a broken world the painful desire and hopeful praise for the only One
who can make it right.
My dad had the same propensity for tearing up that I have,
but he was also the best encourager of anyone I have ever known. Almost every
morning of my adolescent life, I awoke to find a 3x5 index card on my dresser
with his handwritten scribble of an encouraging quote or just a note to say, “I
love you and I am so proud of you.” He had the gift of words and he used them frequently
to give life and grace to most everyone he knew. Salt and Light.
But here’s the thing. We seldom use our sadness because we are
so quick to try to fix it—because it hurts, because it is uncomfortable
and inconvenient, because it casts a dark shadow on everything else in life. Because
it makes even the smallest task seem impossibly hard. Our knee-jerk reaction to
sadness is to MAKE. IT. STOP. (I do realize that there are mental and
emotional conditions and circumstances which require medical help in intense
times of depression, and I am not begrudging those treatments or talking about
those times here. Medicine can be a gift of God to heal).
However, in every trying time God gives us, He has a
purpose. We must stop to consider what that might be or else we just survive
our sadness or wish it away. Believe me, I have had a lot of days where I am
just trying to survive, and I have wished it all away more times than I can
count. That is okay, too, and natural, I think, for as long as it takes.
But consider God. Is it
all just an accident? Are His hands tied behind His back as He watches us
writhe in pain, groaning and crying out for mercy? No. God doesn’t just let me
get to the end of my rope. He TAKES me there.
He is totally sovereign. Should we accept good from His hand
and not bad? Do we want the Giver or the gifts? Is our affection so shallow and fickle that in
our finite understanding we perceive God to be a certain way or do not feel He is
working out His plan correctly, so we bolt?
He never ran away from us. He could have climbed off the
cross but He willed Himself there. Through the pain, the betrayal, and the embarrassment,
God accomplished a great purpose in Christ’s suffering. What purpose might He
have in yours?
We have a choice. We can’t go back, we can’t even hold onto
this moment. We can only move forward in His perfect timing.
I am using this day, March fourth, to consciously MARCH
FORTH. I hope to reflect on what God is
doing with me in this season and to ask Him what he would have me do and by His
grace to do it.
My mom, who has exhibited such hopeful grief, is going to
Africa for two weeks this summer to tell people how to find life. My ten-year-old
nephew Tate shared his testimony with his peers and how Jesus transforms
hearts. One of my dad’s best friends raised money to build a press box at the
local high school baseball field in memory of my father and of his great love for baseball and his dedication to helping local players. Dad’s Bible Study
continued their tradition of having an annual banquet for the widows in their
county on Valentine’s Day, naming it the Robert Alston Sweetheart Banquet after
my dad because of his vision and dedication to care for widows. It goes deeper than just paying forward
the encouragement we have received from him.
It is proclaiming the infinite goodness of God in the deep chasm
of suffering. It is uniting ourselves to Christ in His suffering and allowing
Him to change us as only He can into His likeness. God doesn’t give you suffering
only to put you at odds with a broken world. He gives you suffering to put you at odds with
yourself. And as we rise from the ashes, which I someday hope to do, to
be changed. To be different. To never be the same. As an old friend Isaac
Hunter used to pray, to “apply His Word to our feet that we might not just be
hearers of the Word, but doers also.”
For me, March fourth will be a new holiday. A day to remember
my precious dad and to honor his memory by what he did best: to overcome
adversity and choose joy, to be an encourager, and to MARCH FORTH with great
purpose for God’s ultimate glory.
“March Forth” for you may mean getting out of bed today and
making breakfast for your children. It may mean finding one thing to thank God
for each day, even though the sky is falling. It may mean donating to those in
need, baking a new neighbor some cookies, or forgiving a bitter hurt you have
been holding onto. It might be as simple as looking in the mirror and telling
yourself, “I was made in the very image of Almighty God.” It may mean reconciling yourself to God by
accepting what Christ did for you on the cross. It may mean picking up a Bible
for the first time in your life and receiving the Bread of Life.
Easter is almost here. Resurrection is upon us. How does God
want to use your suffering, your pain, to propel you forward for your good and
His glory? How will you rise up and MARCH FORTH? What will He use you to do for
the kingdom today?
