Grief in Moving Forward

Wesley and I are finding ourselves at point in our grief journey where sorrow and life have collided. It never felt like it would be possible, but we have found ourselves where time is moving forward again. New rhythms have become routine, once new traditions are becoming old, and life has a new normalcy.

There has been a bit of grief as we realize that time is moving forward and Aurelia is not with us. It surprises me because I thought that we would get used to life without her. we never do. We look at our expanding family and see a whole new set of people that will not know Aurelia in this life. Each child will outgrow their sister and only a few of us will remember the days when her presence enriched our lives. I have cried many tears wondering if our next baby is a girl, and if so I imagine introducing her to her wonderful brothers and her sister being no where to be found.

This week Behr did something particularly cute and after saying goodnight and closing the boy’s bedroom door a strange set of words left Wesley’s lips.

“How could we live without our Behr?”

It is a strange phenomenon to experience pain so excruciating and so unimaginable that even though you’ve been through it, you can’t imagine it again.

Death never settles well in our souls. God created us for life, not death.

Even still, our lives over the past two years have graduated past the season where everything we did revolved around death, grief, and rebuilding every aspect of our lives. Grief has become an old friend that has woven itself into our lives creating a tapestry filled with rich dreams, sorrow, joy, and an intimacy we have never experienced before with each other and with the Lord.

The sorrows and joys we experience are more balanced, and many times I welcome the tears over our sweet Aurelia. It reminds me how much I love her, even in the midst of caring and loving all the other little children God has blessed us with.

Often I hear in the grief community that guilt comes with this phase of life, as though moving forward means forgetting the one we loved so dearly. I have felt the opposite because for the first time since Aurelia’s death I am able to smile with the memories of her sweet smile and it is not always a struggle to look at photos of her sweet face.

Time doesn’t heal all wounds. Healing doesn’t always come here on this Earth. My arms will never be full enough and my heart always a bit cracked. However, I know the Lord can bring me perfect peace despite all the pain. There is some healing that comes with intentional focus on learning to navigate the ocean of grief. There will be some healing as we cling to scripture, sleep well, eat well, and walk often. There will even be healing when we choose to face the sin issues that have been revealed in our hearts along the way.

Still, more than healing, I want peace. I want the Lord to remind me every day when I wake up in this tragedy filled world that I am not alone, and He is enough for me.

I want to remember that He is good.

Psalm 119:68, “You are good, and do good; teach me Your statutes.”

One thing I’ve learned through Aurelia’s loss is that we are all grieving something—even if it’s simply that we live in a broken world.

Grief, often left unspoken, reverberates like a tension through our culture. If we want to cut the tension, we must begin to build and lean on the communities around us. We must communicate our pain to allow others to hold us up and do the same for them when they are in need.

If you do not grieve an intimate loss, I want to persuade you as a believer that it is our job in the church community to encourage and edify the believers around us. This is a labor never done in vain. Wesley and I have been held up by our community in so many ways. I don’t believe we would be where we are without them—so encouraged, so edified. Even on the night of Aurelia’s death, our church surrounded us so beautifully. Life was shining out of a situation with so much darkness. I look back at those moments and the holiness of God that was displayed through the people who held us was comparable with the moment a baby is held in your arms for the first time.

It is hard to know if you have the right words, but it has been those with very different stories from mine that have spoken so deeply to my heart. The Lord is always willing to give us and the people around us the right words in any circumstances. Never think that you cannot be used in the dark pit of someone else’s life. God uses any willing heart that desires Him.

Life is never easy, but I am finding myself in love with a God who is always restoring. He is never surprised but my circumstances and He loves me in the midst of them. He hears my cries and brings healing to my soul. His burden is light, his yoke is easy (Matthew 11:28-30).

May our weary hearts rest in him—in every season and every circumstance.

Psalm 34:4, 8, “I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears… taste and see that the Lord is good.”