Good Grief: Why I Can't Simply "Count It All Joy"

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2-3 ESV).

Growing up in the church, I heard this passage oft quoted when someone was grieved or struggling. Unfortunately, it’s a common theme among believers that grief over heartache or suffering must be short-lived if we are to prove our trust in God.

When we encounter trials, we may find it acceptable to shed a few tears, but then (if we are really mature) we pull up our “big girl pants” and push the feelings away under the title of “Trusting that God has a plan” and that “He will work all things out for good.”

I have been exposed to this process so repetitively that it has become ingrained in my mind and heart as a pattern to follow. Deep emotions are uncomfortable. They are uncomfortable to me and uncomfortable for others. If I’m really trusting God, I won’t continue to grieve, right?

Ironically, I don’t believe that’s what James intended from these verses. He goes on to say that we should allow steadfastness (or perseverance) have its full effect so that we may be mature and complete and lacking nothing. This perseverance does not mean (as many like to translate) pushing forward in our faith and pushing our emotions away. In the Greek, it is translated “hupomone’” – “hypo” meaning under and “meno” meaning to remain or endure. Strongs HELPS Word-studies goes on to explain that this is a God-empowered ability given to those who believe in him to “’remain (endure) under’ the challenges He allots in life.” Obviously, we are not being instructed to remove ourselves from the trial by our own efforts of trusting in God.

Peter echoes James’ sentiments in 1 Peter chapter 1, but I believe, though oft less quoted, he is more clear in the way he communicates. Peter begins by laying a foundational vision of the hope we have in Christ, the power and grace of his glory and the promises we can rest assured of. He then continues. “In this you rejoice, [comparable to James’ admonition to count it all joy] though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials” (1 Peter 1:6). Hold on a second. Peter brings up the reality of the emotion in the midst of the trials. We have been grieved!  This word “grief” in the Greek is “lupeo” – which means to experience deep emotional pain, sorrow, intense sadness. (Ladies, it’s the same word that’s used to describe the pain of childbirth – how is that for a visual?)

But Peter doesn’t stop there. He continues that this grief (not the “choice” to count it all joy) is so that the tested genuineness of our faith may bring Christ all the praise and the glory. And that’s our ultimate aim, right? As believers, we are called to image and glorify Christ on this earth – not ourselves. I’ve found that if I put forth my own effort to trust God, I am denying the power of God in my life and, in my pride, believing that I have what it takes to live the life of faith.  However, if I’m willing to patiently endure the process of sorrow (by the grace that God supplies), to walk through each phase with him, I will experience his comfort, his peace, his presence in ways that were never possible when I was choosing to “count it all joy” and remove myself from feeling those deep emotions. Ultimately, He will get the glory – not me – when he brings me to the other side full of inexpressible and glorious joy!

This concept goes against everything that has been ingrained in me for so long. Grief typically = tears. And I don’t like tears so much – at least not my own. Tears, in our culture, are translated as weakness. I’m a strong person if I can hold myself together. Now, tears are okay for babies, for kids, but I am a grown up. I shouldn’t cry, should I?

I came across this video as I was processing through this concept, and it opened my eyes to why crying may be a positive and not a negative. The Healing Power of Tears

Dr. William Frey, a biochemist at Ramsey Medical center in Minneapolis, studied the composition of different tears and discovered that emotional tears are comprised of water, salt, and stress hormones. Isn’t it amazing that God created our bodies with the wonderful ability to rid our physical systems of these stress chemicals? Tears serve both an emotional and a physical purpose! Tears are good.

But what if visiting the pain again or allowing myself to feel the grief and sorrow causes emotions or questions that go against what I should believe to be true? I love the way Priscilla Shirer addresses these concerns. Check this out: When You Are Going Through A Lot

So, my friends, I’m learning that it’s not wrong to feel. It’s actually okay to cry. Jesus, at the tomb of Lazarus, wept! He didn’t simply shed a couple of tears and move on. He was deeply moved in spirit and he mourned along with the other Jews at the graveside. Does this mean that Jesus didn’t believe the truth of who he was? Was he not solid in his identity? Did he not know what he was about to do? Absolutely not. He was fully God, yet he chose to be fully human. And in that moment, he suffered grief of a kind that we are all well acquainted with.

When I’m willing to endure through the grief, rather than escaping it, Jesus can come to me and comfort me in ways I would never know otherwise. And with that comfort, I can comfort others in their own struggle. This is the body of Christ. This is our purpose as a church – not to shore up ourselves to be stronger in our faith, but to allow Christ to come strengthen our faith in the struggle.

Grief is for our good.

It’s in the wrestling that we are made stronger.

Weeping may endure for the night, but great joy comes in the morning!

The Elusive Hum of the Refrigerator

June 11^th, 2013 (just after lunch)

 

Chaos – that’s what the last hour and a half has been. Pure Chaos. I got Noah down for his morning nap and proceeded to complete medicine boxes so that wouldn’t be riding on my shoulders when Oliver was here. About 2/3 of the way through (with Gabriel vying for my attention the entire time) Noah woke up screaming bloody murder. Eli asked if he could go talk to him. I said sure, just not to get in his bed. Next thing I know, Gabriel was in the room as well – trying to entertain Noah by throwing toys in his bed …. Where one of the toys obviously hit Noah on the head making him scream even harder.

I retrieved the infant one and returned to the gated office to try to finish up these medicine boxes. The whole time, Noah proceeded to whine and babble about how much he was put off. I finished up as quickly as I could and put the boxes back in the locked closet before heading upstairs to make sandwiches for the boys and myself. I laid Noah on the changing table talking to him as I went. I whipped together the peanut-butter-laden bread with sticky purple jam and cut a pepper. Summoning the boys to the table, I plopped the plates down and strapped the little one in. I thanked God rather rashly before rushing off to the bathroom, closing the door to muffle the screams of the baby. “God I need grace!!!” Noah had been screaming the entire time I was making food and had a very difficult time calming in order to nurse. Several times, he worked himself up again and started the tears all over – there was nothing I could do to comfort him.

About the time he finally did calm, Gabe started screaming for more of something and would not be consoled from across the room. I lumbered into the kitchen with the baby still suckling. I had Gabe start counting – which he did, but as whiny as he could muster. I struggled to fill the sippy and attach the lid with one hand, but finally managed. Then I took Noah to the nursery to finish nursing and lay him down.

Once he was down, I tackled Gabe – too far gone to be worth pushing the rest of his lunch, Gabe accepted my arms and we washed his hands and face. A quick prayer later, he was in bed with a book. Music, kisses, and goodnight.

Eli headed downstairs with his toys and we set him up in the office where I noticed Gabe was screaming again. This time he was frantic because he couldn’t find his “ball ball” blanket. Once I reminded him that he had put it under his pillow early this morning, he settled down pretty easily and fell asleep quickly. I walked out of his room, paused and sighed. All I could hear was the refrigerator humming – what bliss! I finished making my salad and headed out to the screen porch where I started working on this. All too soon, it seemed, little nephew was here.

I took a break from my processing and welcomed him, helping him get settled with toys. I folded most of a load of laundry before Noah started screaming yet again – it was as if he were terrified. I stopped with the laundry and went to pick him up where he startled Gabriel into an awake state who also started screaming, and when I went in to comfort him with the infant one, I shut the door so the nephew wouldn’t come in and he also started screaming….3 at once. What happened to my blissful hum of the refrigerator? I could no longer hear it!

I calmed Gabe, put Noah in the wrap, found new toys for Oliver. Finally, not all screaming. Then I hear my name – from a familiar 3-year-old in the basement. “Can I be done resting?” No, of course you cannot be done my brain thought. It’s only been 30 minutes and I’ve had my fill of being needed!!! I walked downstairs where I explained the situation in a 3-year-old logic. Coming back up, I looked around. My heart was pounding. My breathing was rapid. All I wanted to do was crawl in a dark hole with ear plugs and a cup of coffee and sip until I woke up from this awful dream. I haven’t felt that much panic in a long time.

I’ve felt so distracted all day. Mainly Case Management stuff and looking at the big picture of the next week – feeling like I haven’t gotten the down time I need nor the time with my husband. Freaking out over forgetting the busy days to come, wanting desperately just to tell everyone no and eliminate everything from my schedule. I hate busyness! Part of me began to wonder if I am in a season of life right now where I need to do some of that? My kids are at such a critical stage, and I know how easily I can become overwhelmed (though I haven’t felt it like this in a couple months.)

Surprisingly, I didn’t react like I used to. It all boiled up inside, but none of it seeped out. I looked up. I asked for grace and the strength to walk in the spirit. And he came. It wasn’t a miraculous change. Really, I didn’t even notice much of a shift. But the still small voice said “It’s okay, I’m here.” And that seemed to make it much better.

I still feel a little overwhelmed, and my heart aches for time and space and maybe even the opportunity to cry for a bit, but I know that here in this tough moment, He is here with me. I am not alone. And It will all be okay!

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