Can I share that I'm surprised by grief? I have not encountered it too often in my life yet. Last month, when my Grandma Hazel passed away, I was in for a surprise. I didn't think that my heart would be so broken by her passing because she was "ready to go" for lack of a better term. When my Mom called me to let me know that my Grandma had indeed passed away, I broke down. I was surprised. I sobbed, uncontrollably. Then for hours I would fine. Then back to sobbing. The next day on my way out to my parent's house, I was fine. While my Mom, Lauren and I went through her few belongings, I broke down. Not right away. We had been joking around, sharing stories, laughing. Then I found a little powder box. It held little trinkets that I would play with at my Grandma's house. I opened it up and the sweet smell of it broke my heart. Big heaving sobs. My Mom then handed me my box of flannel graph Bible figures that my Grandma had kept for me. I showed them to Josiah while I was crying and he started creating a Bible story on the couch with them and I was distracted. I didn't cry again until I got home. I know that at times I'm morose and tired from it.
This last Sunday at church we were singing worship and they started singing How Great Thou Art. The grief hit me. Like a bomb. I remember so many Sundays of sitting in an orange pew between my Grandma and Great-Aunt singing this song.
Grief has surprised me by the way it rolls in and out. Inundating me and then relinquishing it's hold so I can get on with the day. A knot in the back of my throat. A moist eye constant while functioning like a normal person. I realize that I'm in the same boat as every other human being. Nothing new here. I must at this point emphasize hope. The singing of my soul. My yielding to God in a moment where I am unable to contain my praise for Him. He is indeed great, even when I feel awful.
The night that my Grandma died, I was asked the question "What will you ask Jesus when you see Him face to face in heaven?" I answered that I doubted I would have questions, that it would be a succinct fall to the ground in worship and gratitude. I heard Greg Laurie say in November that he felt like heaven was more of a reality now that his son was there. I feel that now. I look forward to that moment of bowing down and worshiping. No sign of grief. No sign of tears. Just me and Jesus.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"
9 years ago