Healing and Comfort in the Midst of Community


On any given workday, rain or shine, you can typically spot me in my car during my lunch hour. Parked in the shade, seat reclined, book or journal in hand, with my feel dangling out the window.


Oh, the bliss! It’s a mystery how someone who loves people (and I do!) can feel such a strong pull to hibernation. For some reason, I just need that alone time to recharge. I believe I’m what they call an “extroverted introvert.”

But here’s the thing: when it comes to processing loss, I know my grief journey can’t be a solo trip. God designed us for community. He never meant for us to carry our burdens alone. In fact, the Bible says that God is “The Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Corinthians 2:3-4).

Truth is, I can’t heal if I stay in my cave. Comfort and encouragement are a continuous cycle of reaching out to others, and in turn, others reaching out to me. That’s the beauty of God’s design.


Needless to say, I’m eternally grateful for all the love and support I’ve been given these past three months. Family, friends, co-workers, church family, even my therapist. Near or far, it doesn’t matter. Each person has touched me and uplifted me in some way. Some reach out via text, others with social media. Still others, may drop a card in the mail, pick up the phone, or meet face-to-face. It’s amazing how connection with others can lift my spirits. Just a hug from someone as I walk into church, or a co-worker who lets me cry (for the umpteenth time) and talk for a few minutes in the middle of the workday.  All of it is helpful. I think my husband gets the listening award, because he’s the one who gets caught in the middle of my grief waves the most. He’s a man of few words, but his listening speaks volumes.

And let’s not forget prayer. That’s the most important support of all. Each and every prayer offered up for our family has been felt. Prayer sustains us. It carries us when we think we can't go on.

And speaking of support, as God would have it, I’ve been attending a grief support group at our church since last fall. Over the course of three months, we met weekly to go through the book, Understanding Your Grief: Ten Essential Touchstones for Finding Hope and Healing Your Heart, by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.

Ironically (0r Godronically) I thought I was attending so that I could learn how to come alongside others in their time of loss. Little did I know what was up ahead on my own life path. Thankfully, the group is still meeting, and I’m still attending once a month. Very helpful!

Nevertheless, I recently started feeling the need for something more specific to my unique experience. So, I attended my first Friends for Survival group last week. The group, which was founded in 1983, provides support for those who have lost someone to suicide. At this point, I don’t know how it will all fit into my life, but I’m pretty sure that the third Tuesday of each month, I’ll be there.

Yesterday was a very hard day. Don and I had just returned home from a weekend trip up north to Weaverville, CA to iron out plans for Adam’s burial. We met with a funeral home, chose a headstone, and discussed purchasing a plot near a whole group of other Gilzeans who are buried there, including Don’s great-grandfather, grandfather, dad, and uncle (plus wives). Needless to say, our hearts were heavy when we pulled into the driveway at home. Don headed to the mailbox and returned with a gift waiting for me. It was from The Friends for Survival. Someone assembled and mailed a gift to me - a handmade book with little gifts and words of encouragement. So sweet! Talk about a boo hoo fest!



All this to say, as much as I love my alone time - hibernating in my cave - I do need comfort and encouragement from other people. Thank you to those who are walking along this journey with me and my family. We appreciate your prayers and support. Believe me, at some point, it will come back to you. I promise! We all need each other. That’s the beauty of receiving comfort and healing in community.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Adam's Tree

Image
Somehow, I mustered the courage to open the box and peek inside. Deep breath, Mary, you can do this. One by one, I unwrapped the ornaments from their tissue paper cocoons and hung them on the branches. Of course, the floodgates opened. Baby’s first Christmas – 1991, a baseball – 1997, computer wizard – 2005, red convertible – 2007, holiday camping tent – 2009. They are gifts from my mother-in-law, “Grandma Connie,” who bought each of the kids a yearly ornament until they reached adulthood. The eclectic collection used to hang on the family tree all together, but when the kids grew up, I separated them into their own boxes so they could take their treasures with them.   What should I do with Adam’s box of ornaments? I wondered. Val suggested I decorate a small tree with them, which seemed like a good idea. That is, until I opened the box. I’ve learned in my support group that we cannot go around the pain that is grief, or over it, or under it – we must go through it. Alan W
Read more

The Things We Pack

Image
I gazed out the window of our cruise ship cabin. Grey-blue waves seemed to stretch out infinitely over the horizon. We were 700 miles from San Francisco where we’d departed, headed for Hawaii. Tears welled up in my eyes, fogging up my glasses.  Why am I so sad? I should be enjoying this vacation, not pining away at this window.  But I couldn’t help it. The ocean view was just a visual reminder of the endless grief waves that keep crashing over me. Even though it’s been a little over eight months, they just keep coming.  Will they ever stop?  The grief books assure me they will eventually slow down. I sure hope so! Back in the fall, we planned the late-January vacation knowing that the holidays, followed by Adam’s birthday two weeks after Christmas, would likely leave us drained. We were right. As we packed the Sunday before, I asked Don, “Do you think there will ever be a day when we don’t think about losing him?” “We’ll never stop thinking about him,” Don said. “But
Read more

My One Word For 2016: Release

Image
A very sad thing happened to Rudolph on the way to Christmas dinner.  He lost one of his antlers on the freeway. "How can this be?" You ask. Well, it all started when my mother-in-law rolled down the window...well, actually, it started when I purchased a red nose and antlers for my KIA. Silly. Yes. But fun. And these days I'll take all the fun I can muster up. But my fun didn't last long, because when we picked up Don's mom on Christmas, she didn't know the rule about not rolling down the window. So, there I was, perched in the back seat balancing the scalloped potatoes and flowers and salad and such. In a split second - woosh! The antlers flew onto the freeway. Oops. Sorry about that.  I've been praying for the past couple weeks about what ONE word God wants me to focus on in the coming year. Last year my word was HOPE. I've been sensing that in 2016, He wants me to focus on the concept of RELEASE. Letting go. Setting free. Giving up. I think t
Read more