Anger in the journey of grief
Another entry from the pen of our friend John about the painful and angry realities the journey of grief brings and how it “is not for the faint of heart.”
“A few nights later, I had trouble going to sleep. I woke up frequently and had several unsettling dreams that gnawed away at the edge of my awareness the next morning. The recurring theme seemed to be a nagging frustration and anger. I realized that I was frustrated and angry at Lynn’s absence. I missed having her at my side. I then remembered being angry recently after reading several articles about the success of breast cancer treatments, new therapies, … Early detection has raised survival rates so significantly… Lynn’s cancer exploded less than 6 months after a clear mammogram and CT scan. The cancer killed her in spite of the best therapies available and I’m left alone as a widower while science celebrates it’s progress. They quote the statistics, but I’m experiencing the reality of the loss.
This isn’t one of my brighter or cheerful blogs. I’m surprised by the pain and hurt and anger that suddenly erupted the other day. Just as the yard project surprised me by the amount of work involved, grieving surprises me by the amount of work it demands. Many of you have encouraged me that I’m doing well on this path. Last week it didn’t feel like it. It’s a shock to come off the refreshing time I had with Lynn’s parents in the NW and hit a low so abruptly. It’s driven me to prayer”
“Lord, I confess I am weak, weary, restless, frustrated, angry, wounded, broken and lonely. I am sad, hurt, frustrated, and angry when others have been healed, living… while Lynn suffered the ravages of cancer and died.
I do not understand why. Why she had to die in the prime of her life and service. Why I have to figure out life alone? Why I have to face such loss and pain?
Lord, I’m angry at you for taking Lynn. Yet I find I so desperately need you and your presence more than ever. It’s in thistime I’ve experienced your presence, your love, your care more deeply than ever. I am desperately dependent on you. Take my life and fill it with your light as I am in darkness. Bring resurrection life where I only see death. Touch me with your healing where I am broken. Infuse your joy & presence into the sad, lonely recesses of my soul.
Holy Spirit fill me afresh: convict, lead, guide, teach, empower, comfort my heart. For you alone can transform me into a vessel for your honor, useful in your service, someone to honor your Name, Oh Lord.
Let Jesus Christ be formed in my life. Let the Light of the world shine steadfastly in me. 2 Corinthians 4:5-7”
This journey is not for the faint of heart. I stumble, struggle and wrestle with this thing called grief. I’m also growing in it.