Since I lost my grandmother back in December, grief has been a consistent part of my journey on the Race. As with any loss, there have been good days and there have been not so good days. There have been fits of laughter as my teammates ask to hear stories of her and there have been tears as all I can do is simply miss her. There has been acceptance and there has been anger; I’ve learned to accept the grief and all it had to offer – or so I thought. This past week, I faced a different type of loss that brought me face to face with my fear of grief.
At the beginning of the Race, my friend and teammate at the time, Monica and I were chosen as our squad’s logistics team (AKA Hanukkah: Haley + Monica = Hanukkah). Over the past seven months, we’ve been responsible for organizing transportation from country to country for our team, finding hostels or accommodations for our end of month debrief locations and essentially heading all logistical matters on the field. Although both of us were hesitant at first, unsure if we were the two fit for this responsibility, we stepped into the role committed to serve our squad through this avenue and through this desire, the Lord has blown our minds!
Now, our logistics journey has looked different than most: from not having a bus to take us from South Africa to Lesotho two hours before we had to leave to interrogations at the Nicaraguan border to losing accommodations last minute on Easter weekend in due to a water crisis in Cape Town, we always seemed to be fighting an uphill battle. But God ALWAYS prevailed! With each challenge, the Lord proved His faithfulness and showed up in mighty ways: through seeing God always come through, Monica and I learned to see the Lord work in a new way. We had grown in our ability to work as a team, our passion to serve the squad to logistics and our trust in God. Eventually, unexpected events didn’t phase us or take us by surprise; it’s what we were used to. This past week, however, an event managed to take us by surprise: when we were asked to step down from logistics.
On the Race, we have a leadership team in the States who fight for us fiercely. They have spent the past seven months checking in on Monica and me, walking alongside us through any obstacle and interceding for us through prayer; so when they told us that the Lord put it on their hearts to provide us with a time of rest, in the form of stepping down from our role, we took their words to heart. And when they were talking to us about this decision, they kept saying “this is a loss” or “it’s okay to grieve.” Grief, grief, grief.
The first 24 hours or so after receiving this news were difficult. There was an unnamed weight on my heart, a burden that didn’t match up with the processing I felt I’d accomplished. I reacted to the news with peace, trusting that this new season of rest was a beautiful gift from the Lord yet something was off. So I took my feelings to the Lord found immediate clarity: it wasn’t the loss that was holding me down; it was the word grief.
Four months ago I dove head first into grief. I woke up with it and went to bed with it. I read books on it and listened to podcasts about it in hopes that I could cure it. Four months ago, grief unraveled me – and as I face the reality of this new loss, I’m scared to revisit grief; I’m scared that it will unravel me again.
This revelation came with immediate affirmation from the Lord – four months ago, He used grief to build a firm foundation underneath my feet; He picked up all of my broken pieces and turned them into something beautiful. Through my grief, He gave me the opportunity to lean on Him in a way I didn’t think I had to before. This grief led me to a deeper, more intimate relationship with my Father and grief has created an unwavering trust in the Lord’s faithfulness; grief isn’t something to run from or fear but a part of my story to embrace.
After this realization, the past few days have been filled with peace. As with any loss, there have been good days and there have been not so good days. There have been fits of laughter as Monica and I think of the time we “accidentally” scored our squad a stay at a 5-star hotel in Panama City or decided the only cure to finding out we lost lodging a week away from debrief was playing mini golf; there have also been moments of sadness when we realize that we won’t work together or serve our squad again in this capacity. There has been acceptance and there has been some anger. Yes, I’ve learned to accept the grief and all it has to offer – but more than that, I’m learning to embrace the grief. Grief isn’t just a side effect of loss, a stumbling block in healing; grief is a beautiful, sometimes painful, but always worthwhile part of my story that always brings me closer to the Lord.
