One of my earliest memories is going on a “bear hunt” with my Kindergarten teacher. We’d all march in place as we chanted:
Going on a bear hunt.
I’m not scared.
Gonna catch a big one.
What a beautiful day.
On this hunt, we would inevitably come upon a field of tall grass, a wide river, and a dark cave. Each time, we’d discover that we…
Can’t go over it
Can’t go under it
Can’t go around it
Gotta go through it.
So we’d pretend to wade, swim, and tiptoe over imaginary hurdles to get to the other side.
Sounds like life, doesn’t it? We have such big and marvelous plans. The days are beautiful. We’re not scared. Until…we come to an impassable hurdle. Suffering and loss pop up out of nowhere and we have no choice but to keep moving forward into grief. There just isn’t any way around it. It doesn’t matter how “spiritual” or “strong” you are, if you try to escape, grief will eventually catch up with you.
I naively thought, since I had already survived the devastating loss of a child, I would be able to navigate subsequent losses with a little more dignity. Oh, how vividly I recall the ugly messiness of that grief journey, all those years ago! I have long feared walking that road again, dreading the vulnerability…the fear…the anguish.
But surely I’ll do better this time, right? I mean, I’ve grown so much since then!
Except, grief isn’t measured by maturity. Grief is more or less directly related to the relationship you had with the one you lost.
The passion that once fueled your marriage now burns your cheeks with hot tears.
The fire in your heart for your loved one now bursts forth in a blazing inferno of anger.
The deep longing you once felt for your person has only intensified in their absence and depression lurks like a looter at the edge of chaos.
You would have given your life in exchange for theirs, yet you couldn’t save them, so guilt and regret torment your thoughts.
Your present and your future have both been irreparably altered, leaving you with zero control, and fear chokes you.
So sadness, anger, longing, guilt, regret, and fear—all at next-level intensity—become hurdles on the path to healing. Hurdles that must be faced.
Soul-deep emotions can’t be circumvented. They aren’t supposed to be. They are a vital part of the healing process.
Ironically, grief is often the inevitable end of love. Because I loved deeply, the valley of grief will be deep. I have no desire to pitch a tent and live there, but I must take every step through the valley, climb every hurdle, and cross every torrent in order to get to the other side.
When my kindergarten class embarked on our hunt, we weren’t scared, because we knew we were safe in our classroom with our teacher. We were certain no bear would harm us.
Oh, to revisit those days of innocence and trust!
I must admit, I’ve been plenty scared on this walk through the valley. The temptation to find an escape is real! But the point of the “bear hunt” isn’t whether or not we will have to walk through the hard things. We will. The point is that we don’t have to walk through the hard things alone. When we walk in tandem with Jesus, we find there is healing and wholeness on the other side of our trial, and supernatural comfort and strength for the journey.
We’re going on a bear hunt, friends. Our bear looks like something more than survival. The wild game we seek looks like healing, purpose, and post-traumatic growth. Christlikeness is the trophy at the end of staying the course and doing the hard things.
The truth is, when it comes to grief, we…
Can’t go over it
Can’t go under it
Can’t go around it
Gotta go through it
And that takes time.
But, praise God, we aren’t in it alone.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, Nor will the flame burn you. For I am the Lord your God.
Isaiah 43:2-3a
🩷 Audra
(Originally posted 5/20/22)
