I started the day off with grief. No, not because I have no girlfriend and Single-awareness Day is coming up. It’s because my friend who passed away from Leukemia was born on February 14th. It’s been three years. However, for some reason, my body was going into “prepare for your brain to cower in the corner” mode.
This usually means I go numb. This happened to me month 9 on the Race. When I was fatigued, and was experiencing the trauma of processing poverty, I went into survival mode. You know the feeling. The one where you shut down your heart, function, and get the job done. There’s nothing wrong with this. It allows you to function until you deal with grief properly. But for some strange reason, I was finding some sort of sick pleasure in it. It was comfortable. It was familiar. I could sort of halfway function with it.
However, when you live in community, people know you well enough to not only know when you’re “off”, but also full of God to tell you where you the truth. I was in a semi-funk. I wondered: “What is this feeling?” “Have I grieved this properly?” “Do I need to take a ‘me’ day?”
So during my first round of coffee brewing runs, I ran into a wonderful sister in Christ.
“Good morning!” she smiled.
“Morning,” I said back, as best as I could with fake a smile.
After brewing perk and knocking back a Styrofoam cup of black joy, I began to think, “Okay… I can do this… I can get through this day and tonight, I will grieve alone.”
When I returned to the office, a voice greeted me, “Okay… what’s the deal?”
I smiled, “Deal?”
“You have not been your energetic self. You have not said anything cheesy. Something is up.”
I stood there, trying to hold my composure.
She continued to speak, “You don’t have to shoulder this alone. That’s what community is for.”
After holding myself for as long as I could, I spilled. I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell. I couldn’t feel anything. My breath sputtered out when I finished.
That was when she spoke over me truth, “Chase, she knew Jesus. She’s home! Don’t you know that? She is with your Father. Listen to your heart. Let loose of the grief and take comfort in hearing the Holy Spirit.”
So I listened. My heart really didn’t want to let go of the hurt… it was as if I wanted to feel something for her, but grief wasn’t what I wanted.
But it’s what I needed. For when I finally let it go today, I was able to embrace the truth:
She’s home.
And I will see her again.
