Swimming through deep waters

Dealing with grief feels like swimming through deep waters--where you are at the bottom and keep moving, moving, moving towards the surface, hoping that you get there before your lungs explode. Gasping and flailing about, you are grateful that you made it up for the breath you were dying for, because you thought that you just weren't going to make it. ("Just when you thought it was safe to go into the water...")

Ever since the high holidays I have been hit with fresh waves of grief over the loss of my brother. It surprised me. I've been doing pretty well, and have been at peace for the most part. Every so often, I'd get surprised by a wave. This one almost knocked me down today. I have had to cling to all of the Scripture I know about God's goodness and faithfulness. I have to speak the truth to myself, because self-pity lurks in the corner, ready to grab me round the neck like Gollum, trying to take back his "precious."

But I stand with Job--"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!" "Shall we only accept good from God and not evil?" "But I know that My Redeemer lives and one day in my flesh I shall see God."

Job's greatest grief was not for the loss of his goods, but the loss of his children. Ten of them to be exact. Yet Job still looked to his faithful Creator. He trusted, and God restored Job and transformed him in the bargain. So much greater grief than I can imagine, than I've ever known.

Today I didn't really want to swim. I called my husband who encouraged me. I freely admitted that I was out of sorts and needed to "go soak my head." He encouraged, and when it was done I found that it helped. It took much longer than usual. I wasn't gliding with glee like a fish. Each arm and leg felt like lead weights, but I pressed on.

What really helps is knowing that no matter how I feel, because of Y'shua, I belong to God and He is mine. He won't give up on me if I'm having a bad, sad day. He's the Man of Sorrows who is acquainted with grief. He bore all my griefs and has carried my sins and sorrows. He has been faithful at every turn, even when I've been faithless. He continues to amaze me, and give me songs in the night. And sometimes when the night dares to invade the daytime, He provides new songs in the daytime, too. But the song I most want to sing is the one when all of us are together singing the praises of the Lamb who was slain before the foundations of the world. I don't think it will be long now...