Sharing our grief: Kenyan Friend Mary Chuchu and I
For months I’ve attempted to put pen to paper. Oh, yes, there are pages and pages of scribbles in my notebook staring back at me, daring me to try to make sense of them, but they remain jumbled and incoherent. Truth be told, this past year has been difficult; the deaths of so many people I love (almost 20!) has taken its toll. I haven’t been my normal self: my confidence is shaken; the ground beneath me is unsteady; and I’m weak and burdened by the weight of sorrow, not just my own, but also the collective grief of others who are suffering. For those family members and friends who are heavy laden with sorrow after the death of a wife, a husband, a sister, a grandparent, a mother, a father, a dear friend, for you, my heart aches.
This morning, while reading a favorite book of mine, The Cloister Walk, by Kathleen Norris, I came across this line about the poet, Emily Dickinson:
Near the end of her life, she wrote in a letter: “When Jesus tells us about his Father, we distrust him. When he shows us his Home, we turn away,but when he confides to us that he is ‘acquainted with Grief’ we listen, for that is also an Acquaintance of our own.”
Dickinson’s words resonate with me. Grief has taken up residence in my body and soul, becoming an intimate acquaintance against my will. Grief leads me down into a vale of tears, leaving me listless, impatient (just ask those around me!). I move through the world as if shrouded by a heavy grey fog. But even in that veil of grief, I am reminded of these comforting words from the book of Isaiah, (surely Emily Dickinson was familiar with these words as she penned hers):
“He was…a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hid their faces
He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.
Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
But He was wounded for our transgressions;
He was crushed for our iniquities;
upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:3-5).
There is no doubt about it, grief is unsettling, disruptive and chaotic. Grief holds hands with suffering. And yet, comfort does not come from within ourselves; it comes from knowing that we do not grieve alone or without hope. For Jesus, the Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief, bears our griefs and carries our sorrows to the cross. His death and His wounds bring healing and peace, even while we are walking through that vale of tears.
My prayers continue to rise like incense for you my dear friends and family who are holding hands with grief. May Christ’s mercy be your consolation and peace.
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)
Always Mercy,
Deaconess Pamela Boehle-Silva
