Inside: It may seem counterintuitive, but regularly passing by or through the difficult places can help us process grief or loss. ~
After my parents died, I could not escape their memories. Every single place I drove in my hometown—past their nursing home, past the hospital, past the intersection my dad barreled through on his daily trips to visit my mom—catapulted me back into a heavy, sad season.
It was exhausting and gut-wrenching.
I could have rearranged my routine to avoid passing by all these reminders, but that would have been highly inconvenient. Instead, I took deep breaths and kept driving.
Day after day, memory after memory, breath after breath.
Five Years Later …
I still notice these places.
I still remember, but it usually doesn’t stop my breath.
For me, sticking to my normal routes after my parents died was like starting physical therapy immediately after knee surgery. It hurts—quite a lot, I’m told. But if you don’t do it, you won’t heal properly.
Avoiding the short-term pain can cause worse problems in the future.
To Avoid or Not
When we’re grieving the loss of a loved one, it’s often helpful to stay out of certain situations that could make us feel even worse. But while it may seem counterintuitive, regularly passing by or through other hard places can aid in our healing.
Each time we do it—sometimes alone, sometimes with our hand planted in another’s firm grasp—we show ourselves we can do it. It helps us build up emotional strength as God knits the broken pieces of our hearts back together.
John 16:33 promises us we will have trouble in this world, and that includes grief, loss and death. There’s no getting around it, as much as we might long for a pain-free life.
The Good News
But that’s not where the promise ends. Take heart, the verse continues. Not because we’ll be able to avoid some or all of the hard stuff, but because Jesus has overcome the world. As a result, we can experience true peace, no matter what hardships we may face.
I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s better than any avoidance technique we could ever hope to implement.
• • •
Can you think of a time when facing something head on helped you heal? Or a situation when keeping your distance for a while was the wise option? Please share in the comments.
♥ Lois
Avoiding short-term pain can cause worse problems in the future. Share on X Jesus has overcome the world. As a result, we can experience true peace, no matter what hardships we're called to endure. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
12 comments
This is beautiful and wise, friend!
Thanks, Bethany!
This wisdom is your version of “do the next thing!” Thank you for sharing your loss and God’s faithfulness!
That’s a good way to describe it, Michele. And amen to God’s faithfulness1
Amen, our hope in Jesus gets us through, gives us hope, eases our anxiety. Almost two years to the day that she passed away, I needed to go back to the place where my Mom spent her final year or so. I swore I never would set foot in the door again, but was compelled to say good-bye to a dear friend and mentor. I’m grateful for the company of my husband, grateful that the visit was a very blessed experience. And grateful that these two godly women are now keeping company with each other around the throne.
Oh, Linda … I totally understand your reluctance to go back and am so glad the visit was a blessed experience. Also glad your husband came with you … it helps to have understanding companions along for these hard occasions, doesn’t it?
Lois, such wisdom filled words. Working in hospice and bereavement I hear and give the same advice to others, but often struggle to follow it. So many losses in my own life have taught me to “keep on driving”. When my granddaughter Indigo Evangeline was stillborn, it was hard for me to see and hear other grandparents welcome healthy little ones, but I volunteered in the nursery at the church anyway.
When I lost my Mother, similarly to Barbara’s comment, soon after ended up blind-sided by Mother’s Day displays in the grocery store. And that first Mother’s Day was also her birthday. So, I bought cards anyway, and wrote what I wanted so desperately to say, and placed them by a bouquet of sunflowers, her favorite flower. I still do that on those days, and also on the anniversary of her death. It allowed the grief to flow through me in a positive way and bring the healing necessary. Those days now no longer bring the pain they used to. Grief, after all, is simply love with nowhere to go, when we lose a loved one, we don’t stop loving them, and finding ways to allow grief to flow through us in healthy ways helps us continue to love them, but in different ways.
Oh, friend … it takes a certain kind of dogged strength to do what you did in the aftermath of your grief. Such powerful demonstrations of love and kindness. I love what you do to remember your mom on those tender days–it helps, doesn’t it? Thanks so much for sharing these thoughts, Donna. I always learn so much from your experiences.
My mom had passed away in December, 2005. That next April, I stopped in a Hallmark store to get some ideas for our church ladies’ luncheon in May. I had not thought that the store would have Mother’s Day items out, but I was caught off-guard with the realization that this would be my first Mother’s Day without my mom. I went back out to my car and cried, and then went home.
We had learned of my mom’s passing when my sister called me while we were at our adult Sunday School Christmas party. The next year, I couldn’t go to that party. Not only was it coming up on the first anniversary, but it was the exact same setting.
l read somewhere not to feel guilty if we couldn’t get into the “froth” of the Christmas season when grieving, and that helped a lot. We were joyfull, we celebrated, but it was more low-key that year.
Subsequent Mother’s Day displays and Sunday School Christmas parties didn’t bother me. 🙂
I think I might have had a harder time if we lived in the same town as my mom. But if we had, I think I would have done like you did.
Barbara, I’m glad you felt comfortable not going to the party that first year and just leaving the card store when the grief hit. I still feel a twinge when I am picking out cards for my mother-in-law for various occasions. I want to find nice ones for her, but it still hurts to see all the Mom and Dad cards and know that I have no reason to buy one for my parents. And that’s such helpful advice about not worrying about getting into the “froth” of the season when grieving. It ebbs and flows, and we just need to let it, don’t we?
Nicely said!
Thanks, Tricia! 🙂