The Regret. The Missing. The Longing...sometimes the longing is so sharp, I cannot swallow pass the ache in the back of my throat. I understand now how easy it is to reimagine a better relationship when your loved one has passed. My value for authenticity and truth will not allow me to reinvent my story. But, I can tell you there are days when my head needs to hear aloud the voice I still hear within the walls of my heart. To hear his laugh. The way he said, “Chile...” or rolled his eyes into the top of his head as he smirked his lips...
I understand with a little more clarity the longing and missing of the Trinity. To remove anything that obstructs the flow of Love, even if it meant the incarnation of the Son in the pursuit and restoration of mankind. The dogged, relentless pursuit to swallow whole the lie of separation that created this longing. To erase the line between missing and communing. To see the fulfillment of interconnectedness, “that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us...”
Immanuel came and the host declared, “Peace on earth and goodwill toward all men.” Lazarus died, and Jesus wept. He that is peace also grieved. For Mary, for Martha. For me, for John, for you. He was moved by compassion.
In the stillness, I’ve learned to feel what I feel. To not run from the tears, the regrets, the missing or the longing. I’ve learned to choose wholeness over cutting off the sorrow and further fragmenting my ‘self’. And after I dance with grief, I hold my thoughts at a distance and ask, “Is that true?” Immanuel came to remove the misperceptions that obstruct us from seeing Truth as He is. I weed the lies from the soil of Love and allow Truth to flourish. This keeps my grief from running amok and casting me headlong into shadow sickness.
People often don’t know what to say when a person is grieving or how to give space for the sadness. We are not a society that has learned how to be with. Anything abnormal wakes us from our slumber of certitude and makes us uncomfortable. People are uncomfortable with the unpredictability of grief.
As uncomfortable and unpredictable as much of the populous in the presence of Immanuel, God with us. He stirred up things, brought desires to the surface, blew the lid off falsities and egoic power plays. Thoughts that were hidden within the recesses of one’s heart seemed to rise to the surface like dross. And yet, just as many (if not more) were drawn to Him, drawn to His freedom, His mercy, His love. His authenticity. His permission. His invitation. Drawn into with-ness.
Strangely, I find these things in the fire of grief. Memories rising unbidden to the surface like dross. Things being stirred and brought to the surface. The lid blown off the falsities I erected, others I perpetuated through my agreement.
But, I’ve learned I can sit in the fire of grief and not be consumed. I can hold the longing and the missing and not be overwhelmed. And even on the days when it aches to swallow, my soul says, “It is well. It is well.”
Peace on earth and goodwill to all who grieve. May you experience the blessedness of Immanuel this advent season, and may every obstruction and misperception that stands between you and comfort be swallowed in His presence that you might feel His love flowing toward you.
