Hope for the Grieving Heart

I started writing this in July 2018…I’m finally ready to encourage others by sharing this journey with grief.

My grief is still overwhelming at times. No grief is easy. There are days when grief is just unbearable. When the wind blows just right or I’m reminded of our loss…it’s just a lot. And trying to write about it, takes a toll. Tears stream as I openly share. Yet, I know I’m not the only one. I know there are others who have or are experiencing losses just as painful as mine. I know that while I feel so alone in my grief…like no one understands…that’s just not the truth. The truth is, we all experience this to one degree or another. So, I’m sharing this devastating loss in hopes of encouraging you. If you’re grieving, please know you’re not alone.

If you’re not in a place to read about the details of my loss, please skip down to the last five paragraphs to be encouraged in times of grief. I don’t want to hurt your heart by sharing mine.

As I sit in my office and work, I tune into the sound of the beautiful wind chimes outside the door. The breeze is gentle on this sunny, July day and the chimes have a lovely tone. They were a precious gift from one of my dearest friends. 

The gift has giving me so much unexpected joy. But today, I’m of the tragedy that occurred just three months ago. Sadness is difficult to get passed and sadness never fully goes away. Then, there is the “scream in my pillow” anger. They fuel the intense emotional roller coaster! And as unfair as it is, this coaster doesn’t go up! It just keeps going down. I know I’m not the only one who feels it. There are lots of us, family and friends who are going through it too. But, not really together. Everyone goes through it in their own way and time. And the hurt is more than I can bear. Tears stream down my face as I type and consider the tragedy again…

Maybe you’re going through grief and you can identify with how I feel.

On April 24th, my husband called me at work. I was on my lunch break. We had texted just minutes before and I don’t usually chat while I’m in the teacher’s lounge. The call was unusual and unexpected. So, I stepped out to take the call. I knew right away that something was terribly wrong. Frank was upset and crying. He didn’t want to tell me the news over the phone, but I kept pressing.  I needed to know before I could go into the office and line up coverage for the rest of my classes.  Finally, Frank blurted through his crackling, tear-filled voice. “It’s your sister! She’s dead! You need to come home!” The shock overwhelmed me. I could barely breathe, yet I couldn’t comprehend what he said.  I had never experienced shock like that before; I nearly collapsed in the school hallway. I numbly walked into the office and told the receptionist that I needed to leave. I teared up as I explained what had happened. I was in total denial, but I knew I needed to go home and figure this mistake out. Then, I went into the classroom where I was filling in. The kids were returning from lunch and I didn’t want them to be left alone in the room. I knew they would distract me until someone came to fill in. Within minutes teachers reached the door to tell me to go home. I told them a little about my sister and I quickly explained that my own class lessons were on the PowerPoint and that it was opened on the computer. Then, I went up to my room to get my car keys, but I didn’t even remember my bags. And, I didn’t take my kids home with me. We would have to come back and get them. I wasn’t ready to tell them the news that I couldn’t believe or bear. I needed time to process, to figure out how this happened.

As I drove out of the school parking lot, I called my step-mom, Karen. She is the one who told Frank, so he could tell me. She had received a call from the coroner’s office. My sister was hit by a car on a major road in the middle of the night a couple of nights ago. Without identification, the coroner struggled to identify her. The wails and sobs of my step-mom still ring in my ears. I could barely make out the words, “She’s gone!” I couldn’t believe it, and I still can’t. Not fully.  There must be some mistake. Still stunned, I asked, “are you sure…How…Without her license, it could be anyone, couldn’t it?” Then I reminded Karen, “But, today’s her birthday!” Through the phone, I heard my dad as he entered the house. Karen had called him home from work to tell him the devastating news. I told them I loved them and we hung up. Then, I continued weeping for myself and form my family. I considered what Karen was about to tell my dad and I remembered that mom was receiving the same news very soon. And, my nieces are too young to lose their mom.

Maybe you’ve lost someone, much too soon.

With all of the crying, I didn’t know if I could drive home without a distraction. I called and spoke with Frank the rest of my forty-five-minute drive. Once home, I called my mom to talk and process and later I visited with my dad. My heart ached from the loss of my sister. Yet, deep down I knew that others had a greater loss. My parents experienced the greatest loss imaginable. The loss of a child. And, my nieces lost their mom. Every occasion, whether big or small would occur without her presence…graduation, prom, wedding, etc. My kids lost their aunt. Others lost a friend. The week would be filled with grief and arrangements. The arrangements would come and go, but the grief hangs around.

My sister was walking her bike on the paved shoulder of a busy road. The drunk driver swerved onto the shoulder and hit her. He didn’t stop to check on Chrissy or call 911. A woman who walked up right after the accident waved down a police officer who called in for an ambulance. On video, he was clearly intoxicated and looked calm considering he had just hit someone with his car.

The fact that the driver was drinking and driving, angers me. He intentionally got behind the wheel of a car after having one too many! He could have called a cab or had someone sober drive him home. He could have called an ambulance or tried to help her. Or, even checked to see if she was okay. What kind of person is he? I pray to be able to forgive this man, but it’s difficult to forgive someone who doesn’t admit that they did wrong. I don’t think this man killed my sister intentionally, but I also don’t think he recognized the value of her life. When he saw us, he showed no sign of remorse and made no apology.

He took her life and he took my chance to say goodbye. Never again will I get to hug her and tell her that I love her. Never again will I get to hear her sing. Never again will I be with all of my siblings at Christmas. Never again will we laugh about the good ol’ days. Never again will we sit together in church. Never again will she call my name. Never again will she send me a text. Never again will my heart be whole.

Maybe you feel or have felt the same way.

I’m angry with the justice system. Court has been delayed repeatedly by his attorney and the judge. It’s just a case to them. The prosecutor is seeking a DUI charge and nothing else. Nothing related to my sister’s death. Two years later, we wait for even a hint of justice.

Yet, God is sovereign, and He is just. While I would like justice, the truth is, there is nothing that will bring my sister back. Anger and bitterness will devour us from the inside out, if we let it. But, God says to let Him be the judge. “Vengeance belongs to Me; I will repay…” (Deut: 32:35; Rom. 12:19).

We all grieve differently, and the process is really hard. I started out really sad, hurt, frustrated.  Of course, I questioned God. Why her? Why did we find out on her fortieth birthday? Why was she out walking so late at night? Why did that man get into his car after drinking?  Why didn’t he call a cab? Why did their paths cross? 

Family members have asked me the same questions that I’ve asked God. Through their own tears they want to know what no one will fully know this side of heaven…why did he take her home, now? The truth is, I don’t know. But, I do know that, God is good. No matter how tragic the loss of my sister is, God is good. No matter how much or how little she suffered, God is good. Although, God could have rescued her and didn’t, God is good. Romans 8:28 says, “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God: those who are called according to His purpose” (HCSB).  All things, includes the death of my Chrissy. All things, includes the death of your loved one or the other thing that causes you great pain and suffering.  Even the thing that causes you to lose sleep at night. God will use even that for the good of those who love Him. I like to pray God’s Word back to Him. So, I pray that God will use this tragedy for the good of those He has called. I ask God to use this painful loss for the good of my mom, dad, nieces, brother, sister and others. And, because the hurt is really big, I am praying that the good that God works together is humongous! God knows that the loss is really big, so He must be planning to use if for a really big good!

Grief is difficult even for a believer in Jesus Christ. Yet, we don’t grieve like the rest of the world. We grieve and we have hope. (1 Thess. 4:13). Did you get that? Our hearts are tender. We still mourn and have intense times of grief. Simultaneously, we hold onto our hope. Even with hope…even knowing that I will see her again someday, the grief can be overwhelming for me and for my family. So, I have to be intentional and focus on Jesus, my hope (1 Pet. 1:13).

This life is painful and we all go through difficult situations. I don’t know how those without hope make it through hard times. If you’re without hope, all you have to do is accept Jesus as Lord of your life. This hope and God’s grace are free…He loves you and He wants you to come to Him with all that you are. “If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom. 10:9). Yes, it’s that simple.

If you have questions about how to accept God’s saving grace or about next steps, contact me. If you’re experiencing a time of grief and need prayer or help to focus on your hope, I would love to encourage you in this difficult time.