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I ended it. Part of me didn’t want to
cut all ties to the friendship.
Another part of me knew I’d been
causing myself more harm than good for
the past two years. It was unhealthy.
My heart ached, and many nights I
cried myself to sleep. I knew I needed
to take the time to grieve this loss
in its entirety, but I was tired of
crying. I wanted things to go back to
“normal,” but I also wanted to move on
– pretend it hadn’t happened and go
merrily on my way. I was a big girl,
and I was okay.
Deep down, I knew I wasn’t okay. I
wept daily during my vacation,
sometimes numerous times throughout
the day. My insides were spent. I felt
like a hollowed-out pumpkin – until I
started work again. Drowning myself in
work made me feel much better. My
successes at work diluted the pain in
my personal life, and I didn’t have to
think about it. I could just move on –
or so I thought.
Job knew better. Upon hearing of the
death of his ten children, “Job got up
and tore his robe and shaved his head.
Then he fell to the ground in worship”
(Job 1:20, NIV). Using Job’s example,
I’m learning how to deal with loss of
any kind in my own life (see sidebar,
“Loss is a Part of Life”).
Tear Off My Robe
Job stopped what he was doing to
grieve. As a man of rank and wealth,
he had a persona to maintain and roles
to fill. But none of that mattered at
that moment. He tore off the very
symbol of his many roles – his robe.
He was no longer a patriarch, a man of
wealth, a husband, a father. He shed
that entire exterior to unveil a man
of sorrow. The roles could not replace
his loss. Other people’s expectations
of him would need to take a back seat
to the sorrow that engulfed his very
being.
When I experience loss, I remind
myself to put aside my many roles and
to be deliberate about attending to
the wealth of emotions within me. For
the moment, I am not a wife, a mother,
a business woman, or a ministry
leader. I am a child of God in need of
releasing my pain. Everything else is
secondary.
Shave My Head
Job wasn’t afraid to let others know
he was grieving. He could have put on
another robe and continued with his
duties. He could have masked his true
feelings. But he didn’t. Instead, he
deliberately shaved his head,
signaling to those around him that he
would be grieving for awhile. No pat
answers. No “I’m fine” or “I’m okay.”
The shaved head would not lie.
As I move through my grief, I’m
reminding myself that I should not
hide my true feelings. I can continue
with my roles – even on a limited
basis. But I need to be honest with
myself – and others. I’m still working
through my pain.
Release
My Feelings
Finally, I’m learning that relief
comes only when I release my true
feelings. Job emptied himself of his
initial pain. Then he fell to the
ground in worship. But first he
grieved. After I have myself a good
cry, I try to thank God for the relief
that comes only through releasing
those feelings to him. He fills me
with praise as I empty myself of all
the pain within me.
By tearing his robe and shaving his
head, Job began what would be a very
long process of grieving his loss. We
don’t know how long Job mourned
because times of mourning varied in
Biblical times. But we do know that
Job continued to grieve. Deliberately.
Honestly. Alone and among friends.
I myself have been grieving for some
time now, and I thank God for the
moments of relief in the midst of my
pain. Whenever I feel the familiar
sorrow well up even the slightest bit
within me, I remember Job. I need not
tear my robe or shave my head
literally, but I’ve started my own
traditions when I experience loss of
any kind. I write in my journal. Walk
a nearby lake. Gaze at nature.
Sometimes I lay on the floor with my
pup and let her love on me while I
shed some tears. Regardless, I tell
God how I feel. Once I’ve emptied
myself, I find that I too can worship
God in the midst of my pain.
Time alone won’t heal my wounds. But
emptying myself of the pain is paving
the way for my complete healing. And
more and more, I’m finding myself
falling to the ground in worship.
