When We Lose Our Voice in the Presence of Grief

 

July has been a month, y'all. We were at a very popular amusement park here in Florida for the 4th of July. It was quite extraordinary that half of the nation's population was not. We were expecting them, frankly. So we spent the first half of the day at one of the attractions that focuses on the animal population. We enjoyed ourselves, as we were with good friends and weren't snuggled up too close to complete strangers. Then the rain came. 

We called it a day and swam back to our vehicle. That was fine with us, because we are old. Not to mention that both of us have nice 5th wheel trailers with air conditioning. Very appreciated. 

We should pause here to mention that in addition to the incredible fireworks display to celebrate our country's freedom later that night, I believe we should have had something to celebrate another momentous July event. 

In July of 1902, 123 years ago, a man by the name of Willis Carrier invented the first modern air conditioner. He should be enshrined in marble in every southern state and memorialized yearly. In fact, we should set aside an entire month in honor of him. July seems to be fitting; for his invention as well as the unbearable heat. 

The ironic thing is his beloved cooling apparatus was happened upon quite by accident. He was actually working to eliminate a moisture problem at a printing plant in Brooklyn, New York. Frankly, I don't care. I'm just grateful. Getting rid of moisture, ie humidity, is also cause for great celebration here in Florida.

But fireworks, worshipping at the altar of coolness aside--there have been some very somber moments. I have sat down before my computer several times this past week to pound out a blog, or newsletter and found myself without words. 

As I have scrolled, and opened up emails, I have found myself inundated with heartbreaking posts, updates, and prayer requests. The vast majority of them regarding children. It has been more than my heart could bear. I have wept and mourned, struck silent at the utter emotional wreckage of people's lives.

My calling is words. Words to entertain, encourage, and even bring a smile or a laugh. This last couple of weeks, however, there has not been sufficient words. Others have poured out verbiage that stirred my heart and my soul, and I shared them. Others, well, let me just say, should probably have kept their thoughts and words to themselves. 

I don't have words for the pain and heartache. For the gaping holes left in people's lives, never to be filled again. All I have is a hand...a hand held up to a God who does have words. Words that were penned through His Spirit for all eternity. Words that have stood through the ages, to speak to broken hearts, shattered lives, questioning minds, angry spirits. Words that have never changed, and will never change, no matter the circumstances around us. Words of enduring love, impossible peace, eternal life. 

I am reminded, every day, that life, this life we are slogging through, is hard. We have joy in monumental amounts, graciously allotted to us by a generous Father who has blessed us beyond what we deserve. We will suffer some, celebrate more, love, mourn, and then do it all again. 

I have always wondered how anyone could endure the devastating hardships that this life offers up without the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit of God. Without the knowledge of the temporal state that we find ourselves in, and the comforting realization of what Eternity holds for us: how does one endure such absolute grief?

The truth of God's Word, the reality of His presence through our worst times, His promises never failing: only this can bear us up under the weight of the burdens life can heave upon us.

Whether we find ourselves trying to hold our heads above the flood of unspeakable heartbreak, or standing outside helplessly witnessing others' travail, we only find Peace, not answers, in God's presence. 

We will wonder how life can continue; but it does. 

"..Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning." Ps. 30:5

Joy will return. It always does. God promises us that it will. While some have born heartbreak, I've had friends and acquaintances receive answers to prayers. On one hand we have deep mourning and on the other great rejoicing. It is the ebb and flow of life. It is why we weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. This last week I have had opportunity to do both. 

Let us stay connected . . .bearing one another's burdens as Jesus left us to do. Having a community to share our celebrations with as well. 

Thank you for joining this community, for being a part of a small group with whom I hope you can share your grief and your joys. 

I welcome your comments.

As always,

Kerri