There was an enormous loss in our parish family last week. A sudden death sent shockwaves through the whole church. The funeral was yesterday.
I spent the week with people who were absorbing the shockwaves of sudden, heartbreaking grief.
Every grief is different. Every grief draws from the well of grief in our hearts that holds every loss we have experienced in our lives.
While I am no stranger to grief, I have not experienced the particular grief this family is going through. I have my own well, and you, dear reader, have your own well of grief.
A few years ago I wrote a poem in response to a friend’s sudden grief. As I heard the news of her unimaginable loss, the words started to flow into this week’s poem.
We all have a worst day of our life. Unfortunately, part of the human condition means that things can fall apart at any moment. We are fragile creatures on a fragile planet.
The good news is that there is a God who is called Love holding this fragile world, and your fragile heart, in the palm of His hand.
We are not promised that things will not fall apart. Instead, we are promised that God will be with us if (and when) things crumble.
13. What to do on the worst day of your life: What to do on the worst day of your life: Sit down (or fall down). Anywhere will do. Wherever you are, stop. Breathe. Cry. There is no quick fix or easy path, no way out but through, so sit. Take these words (or don’t). Take nothing but that which holds or calms or joins this pit you find yourself in. Here, in this place, even good news can ring untrue. No matter what you do it won’t undo the moments and movements that led to this. So sit and pray, but not artfully, beautifully. Let your words fall apart with you. Shattered, tear-soaked prayers like those from dirt or cross or grief green garden. Jesus won’t make this better, not if better means go away. He will cry with you. I will cry with you too. He does and I do and the grace of this day might only be shared tears and good food and the silence that follows why. The over-under on your suffering is impossible to know. I cannot say it will all be okay. Tomorrow may only be the second worst day; But that is tomorrow (of course) and this is today. So sit or crumble or pray and take these words (or don’t). Toss them up like glitter or else throw them away.