Prelude: 

I published this piece on my old blog two months and a couple weeks after my Mom died on November 6, 2012.

Written during the throes of the deepest grief I’ve experienced, I find my old thoughts still ringing true today. Yet in other ways, I am encouraged by the progress I see. In the second paragraph I talked about many of us not being willing to share honestly about the battles we faced. In the five years since I wrote this, I think that’s changed–at least among my friends. We are much quicker to “just be real.” It may even be to a fault, but I think I’d rather people be a little too honest about their struggles, then try to pretend they’re totally okay or perfect when they’re not. (I don’t know, what are your thoughts? Am I right about the change in atmosphere?)

From the very first two paragraphs, I can see the hand of God weaving a thread through my story that would eventually lead me to make a major, life-changing decision (watch for my next “Revisited” post a week from now).

I pray this is a comfort to those of you going through the same.

Grieving

01.21.2013

People say that grief comes in stages, like a staircase maybe. To be honest, I have found that the “stages” of grief are not as distinct as I thought they would be. There is not much of a pattern to how I have grieved. For me, I think grief is better explained as a pool which I am swimming in. Some days I am on the deep end, floundering around in pain and grief that is over my head and it feels like God is far away. Other days I am in the shallow end dealing with easy stuff, and I know I am safe because I can see God. Yes, I like it: grief is more like a pool, not a staircase.

I think most Christians realize that life is a battle, and more importantly, a spiritual battle. But tragically not very many of us are willing to openly talk about our battles. Where are we at, in our battles? How are they going? If it is a fact that we are all in a battle, then let’s be real about it. Let’s confess when we fail, rejoice and sing when there is victory—and intercede when there is intense fighting. Am I describing church? I hope so.

I am in a new battle: my Mom was recently killed in a car accident, (see post “[Not] an Accident”). The grieving process has been completely different from what I expected. At first, God felt extremely close and dear. My faith was nearly unshakable, and I could freely praise God.

Lately, though, it has been more intense. And my emotions have gotten themselves confused with sea waves, going back-and-forth, back-and-forth. It requires some of the most intense fighting I have ever had to do, and unfortunately, I stink at it. I am so pathetic when it comes to warfare because I just quit trying after awhile. Satan attacks me full force with every lie I have ever struggled with since I was a kid, and like a toy action figure I just plop over. I struggle with lies: lies about myself, lies about my friends and family, and lies about God.

Satan is like a spider, weaving webs of deceit and despair waiting for me to blindly walk right into them. I need a rescuer to cut away the sticky threads that get matted into my hair, and stuck onto my skin. Every day I need to take a bath in the peace and love of God, or my soul begins to reek. I hate baths. They are so humbling and time-consuming. I have things to do ya know.

Sometimes, we as Christians get strange ideas into our heads. They become foundational beliefs that weigh us down and drive people away. One belief that has weighed me down for years is the lie that I need to be perfect [failure-less] in order to please God. A lie that often accompanies this belief is that God does not love me unconditionally. But the truth is completely opposite! The truth is that God loves me no matter what I do! “God demonstrated His love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us,” (Romans 8:5). And because He loves me God sent His son, Jesus Christ, to die in my stead. And He has placed on me, Christ’s perfection so that God and I might again have fellowship (see Romans 5; actually, read the whole book).

I do not think that God is asking us to get our lives, our thoughts and actions, straightened out and perfected. But rather, I think He is asking us to simply depend [trust] upon Him for forgiveness and security. He is asking us to surrender. He can do anything with anyone who surrenders.

So I choose to trust God. Faith, love, trust, hope—all of this is a choice. If I only trusted when I “felt like it,” frankly, I would have abandoned my faith long ago.

Let’s be open about our battles, because they are real and intense. There is no shame in struggle. The shame comes from hiding failure. “He that covers his sins will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy” (Proverbs 28:13).

I was blessed by Tenth Avenue North’s latest album, The Struggle, even before Mom’s death, but recently the song “Worn” from that album has been brought back to the forefront of my thoughts. I think the lyrics are some of the most beautiful expressions of the spiritual battle we all face, that I have ever heard. So I have included them below. Listen to the music as well, if you can, it is also very beautiful.

Worn

Tenth Avenue North

I’m Tired I’m worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes

To keep on breathing.

I’ve made mistakes

I’ve let my hope fail

My soul feels crushed

By the weight of this world.

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left.

– – –

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn.

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

‘Cause I’m worn.

– – –

I know I need to lift my eyes up

But I’m too weak

Life just won’t let up

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left.

– – –

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn.

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

‘Cause I’m worn.

– – –

My prayers are wearing thin

Even before the day begins

I’ve lost my will to fight

So, heaven come and flood my eyes.

– – –

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn.

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

‘Cause I’m worn.

C.D.