When I was in kindergarten, I used to love going on bear hunts. You know, the kind that take place in your imagination as you repeat after the teacher…
We’re going on a bear hunt!
(We’re going on a bear hunt)
I’m not scared.
(I’m not scared)
We’re gonna catch a big one.
(We’re gonna catch a big one)
What a beautiful day
(What a beautiful day)
On this hunt, we will come upon a field of tall grass, a wide river and a dark cave. Each time, we will find that we:
Can’t go over it
Can’t go under it
Can’t go around it
Gotta go through it.
Grief is like that, isn’t it? We have such big and marvelous plans for our lives. The days are beautiful. We’re not scared. But then we come to an impassable hurdle. Pain and loss pop up out of nowhere and we have no choice but to keep moving forward into the grief. There just isn’t any way around it. It doesn’t matter how “spiritual” or “strong” you are. If you try to escape, it’s going to catch up with you.
I naively thought, since I had already gone through the excruciating 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—even more so now, without my anchor by my side. I dreaded the vulnerability, the anger, the anguish. “Surely I’ll do better this time, right?” I thought. I mean, I’ve grown since then!
Only, grief isn’t measured by maturity. Grief is more or less directly related to the love and attachment you hold for 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 love 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 on the edge of the wreckage. 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. Deep emotions can’t be circumvented. They aren’t supposed to be. They are part of the healing process.
Grief is the price we pay for love; so 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 in order to get to the other side.
The whole point of this “bear hunt” isn’t whether or not we walk through the hard things, but rather, with Whom we walk through them. With Jesus, there is healing and wholeness on the other side of this trial, and comfort and strength for the journey.
We may temporarily postpone a stage of grief, but ultimately, the truth is, we:
Can’t go over it
Can’t go under it
Can’t go around it
Gotta go through it.
Praise God, we are never 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)
(TPW 5/20/22)