Last year, I wrote about grief. See HERE and HERE. A lot of hard things happened in 2017, and I continually found myself gasping for air as another devastation knocked me flat on my back.
The thing about grief is that is isn’t permanent. Well, at least in some ways. Scripture says that there are seasons for everything; a time to laugh. A time to cry. A time to mourn. A time to celebrate. The phrasing is very specific to lead us to understand that there will be an end to each season and a beginning of another.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (ESV)
A Time for Everything
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.
For the better part of 2017, I walked through grief in many forms. I would come out of one season of grief and a short time later enter into another, new season of grief. Some big things I mourned in 2017:
- Moving out of the house I loved, back into my parents house (independece)
- Quitting my job (security) and being replaced, and living my life without my only “big girl job” (identity)
- Losing my aunt to cancer
- The passing of the best dog I’ve ever had
- Leaving my life, my friends, and my family to come on the world race
- A teammate leaving the race
- Making friends in each country and inevitably having to say goodbye at the end of the month
- Another teammate leaving the race.
I grew frustrated as the pain kept coming, wondering when my season of heartache would be over. God was so good, and so sweet and kept reminding me that grief isn’t forever. He kept reassuring me that a time of rest, a time of celebration, a time of light and laughter was coming.
Just before we went to Ethiopia, one of my squadmates (who is a raised up squad leader) and I had a great conversation. We were talking about life and she told me that she had a word from the Lord for me. She said “I think you’re about to enter into a season of jubilee.” What she didn’t know is that word had already been on my heart. She referred me to Leviticus 25, where the Hebrews return to their homes, free their slaves, and redeem their land in order to rest and have peace. The Sabbath Year (year of jubilee) was celebrated to prepare for the next season in their lives and to take time to thank God for all that he had done and blessed them with. It was a time of making things right, resetting in a sense, and gearing up for the goodness to come.
As 2018 dawned on January 1, I believed I was beginning my season of Jubilee. What I didn’t know, was that God was asking me to walk through one more month of grief and to let him put my sorrow to rest so that we could enter into a time of celebration together.
All month long, I struggled through one of the hardest spiritual seasons of my life. My circumstances in Ethiopia were beautiful and growing, but I found my spirit in despair, even though I found so much joy in the landscape, people, and my squadmates. Some days, I would wake up and feel the sorrow welling up in my throat, forcing its way out in tears. Some days I couldn’t speak, words failing to do justice to the ocean of sadness I felt. I knew God was asking me to just reach out and trust him, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go.
As is usual for the world race, my teammates and I spent time together as a team every day. On one of our last scheduled times before we left Ethiopia, one of my teammates organized a prophetic activity for us. We all wrote on numbered pieces of paper- things God revealed to us, scripture that came to mind, or prayers for the unknown teammate. Then at the end we drew numbers and then were given the corresponding paper.
For the first paper I was given at the beginning, I closed my eyes and immediately saw a picture of a doorway. It was as though I was standing in a very dark room, looking out the door at blinding light. I began to walk toward the door and got the words “hope” and “laughter.” The image was strong and I was impressed that God had given it to me so quickly. I wrote it down and forgot about it until we drew numbers at the end. I ended up drawing the number for that very same page I had written the vision on.
I read my own words with fresh perspective. In that moment, I sensed God inviting me out of a season of darkness, of grief, of sorrow and into a season of hope, light, and laughter. At that moment, conversations I’d had with squadmates in the days previous came together to form one thing: God had been pursuing me, encouraging me, and sending love my way all month. I needed that last picture of the doorway to put all the pieces together, but there he was, waiting for me in the brilliant, glittering light.
Stayed tuned for part two of this blog! There is more to the story!
Momma, Dad, Sarah, Liam, Austin, and Skout- I love you. Eat some chocolate chip cookies for me. Counting down the days until I get to snuggle you. (Momma and Dad- 19 days!) (Sue, LB, AJ, and Skouty- 145!)
