Where’s the Joy and Peace in the Midst of Grief?

Christmas is a favorite time of the year as we celebrate the birth of Jesus. Even those who don’t believe in Him celebrate by giving, and see the season is a time of joy and peace.

But for some, it’s not so easy. Peace, joy, and celebration elude them.

I have three close friends who’ve lost their spouses within the last six months. Thanksgiving was difficult. Christmas is already harder without their loved ones in the family circle. We’ll attend another funeral the end of the week and just received news of still another friend’s death.

A father was recently told he had 4 to 5 weeks to live, but he’s bravely embracing the days he has left. How do you celebrate as you look forward to loss? A widowed mother who just learned her son is in jail–likely headed to prison–is wondering about his future while aching to have her family all together for Christmas.

I’m not personally affected in my daily life through any of these losses, but I ache for my friends. Where is Christmas peace and joy in the midst of loss, sorrow, and grief?

The loss and pain are real and can’t be ignored. Traditions and trappings of the season bring back memories when least expected, reviving the ache, reinforcing the sorrow. Grief overshadows all of life.

The experts say it’s good to grieve and that it’s necessary to move through it. If you try to suppress it, it takes longer to move on with life.

But, how do you move on when the joy of the season is offensive to the ache in your heart? How do you embrace joy and peace in the midst of pain and sorrow?

I don’t have an answer. I haven’t lost a spouse, so I can only imagine the depth of the pain. But as I ache with my friends in this joyous season, I am encouraged by familiar phrases from Isaiah 53. It gave me comfort when I heard it a few days ago.

Jesus was a man of sorrows. He was acquainted with grief. “Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Is: 54:3-4).

The verses are familiar, but it comforted me to be reminded that my friends are not alone in their grief. Jesus understands. In fact, God wanted to be sure we know that He not only understands, but He is carrying their griefs and sorrows with them, and with me as I mourn with them.

Those overwhelmed with grief are not alone. Jesus is in the yoke with them, pulling the load.

The Babe whose birth we celebrate willingly took on flesh and entered into the pain and sorrow of this world to redeem us. He understands suffering, loss, and pain. Furthermore. He is Immanuel, God with us. He will never forsake us, especially not in our loneliest, lowest moments.

That doesn’t undo the loss of a loved one, but confidence that Jesus is by our side, carrying the load can bring peace that passes understanding and even glimpses of joy in the midst of the pain of grief and sorrow.

Walls

My focus on walls started while listening to a friend share about a marriage crisis. As she talked, I could sense that she’d erected a protective wall, shielding herself from further hurt.

I identified with her. I’ve been there and done that. When we feel the pain of flaming darts–whether thrown or imagined– we instinctively put up a wall to block further hurt.

I’ve also experienced what it’s like for the wall to grow taller and thicker. If it isn’t systematically torn down each time it’s erected, it takes over, blocking more than present pain. Instead, it creates unintended barriers and pain.

According to Brene’ Brown, “When you numb hard feelings, you numb positive feelings too. You can’t be selective.” If allowed to grow, walls stop all true fellowship and eventually the life in the relationship.

A numb heart has difficulty being gracious. Likewise, it has hard time seeing or accepting anything positive from the one who is a perceived threat. A walled heart leads to a sterile, dry, lonely existence—and likely one punctuated with cold remarks and angry outbursts.

When I checked Scripture to see what God said, I found many verses about walls–those around the city. According to the Word, they are obviously good to protect the city. Indeed, it’s bad when the they have a breach or get torn down. I didn’t find any negative connotation about walls.

After prayer and meditation, I determined that all walls are not created equal. We need them around our cities, our communities, and families to keep out the enemy that “prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Pet. 5:8).

However, if we build walls within the city—or the family, in my example—it disrupts the function of the whole. Each individual is isolated. It’s like building a wall between the head and the heart of a body. If you block communication and fellowship within the body, it can no longer function as one.

Indeed, when we begin building walls to protect ourselves from a family member, unity in the family is broken. Interior walls are a pretty good indication that the enemy has entered through a breach in the exterior wall.

While he didn’t use the analogy of walls that separate, when Paul wrote the church at Philippi, he focused on the need for unity, encouraging them to “stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel” (Phil. 1:27). If that is needed in the church, how much more is it true of the family?

When walls go up, it’s because we feel hurt or threatened and we seek to protect ourselves and our interests. We aren’t thinking about unity. We’re trying to avoid pain and discord.

But we don’t need to protect ourselves, because God told us He would “cover you with His pinions, And under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark. You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day” (Ps. 91:4-5).

Our walls may offer a bit or protection, but they are a denial of God’s shield and refuge. They are a poor substitute for hiding in the Lord because they also block us from God. We need His grace for peace in the midst of the storm and His answers to move beyond it.

The Lord offers protection, comfort, care, and hope for reconciliation.

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies.” (Ps. 18:2-3)

Which is better? Being safely tucked under the comforting wings of the almighty God, or crouching alone behind a hard cold wall?

It’s Worth It All

For the last month, my life has revolved around home repair and remodeling. Normal duties have gotten cursory attention because of the chaos and distractions caused by remodeling. One day, meal preparation was so distracted that I forgot to season any of the dishes I prepared.

One of our projects was to replace the floor in the bathroom. We knew we had to pull up the old, lay down a backer board and put tile on top of that. We didn’t know that the old floor had twice as many nails in it as necessary, making it very difficult to pull out. Neither did we know that we would find rotting wood that required us to go even deeper.

We spent over a week preparing that floor for its transformation. (One 12-inch long, inch-and-a-half board had 13 nails in it.) As we labored, I realized how much upgrading a hundred-year-old house can be like making changes in our lives. I couldn’t help but compare it to a difficult time for me.

I went through a period when I was impatient and easily angered at Robert. I couldn’t seem to help myself and asked the Lord to fix me. The process was much like the bathroom. It consumed my life. Even when completing tasks at hand, my mind was distracted by chaos and upheaval. I wanted to avoid the pain and restore order and normalcy.

While knowing change needed to be made in my heart, that the old man would need to be removed. I didn’t know there was rot that needed to be dug out from deep within. Nor did I realize how painful and prolonged the process would be. I became hopeless, depressed, confused about who I was. It seemed God had deserted me.

But it was me that had deserted Him. God was faithful. He was working on me the whole time. He not only stayed beside me, He didn’t quit until His light revealed the rotten spots in my heart—the judgment and bitterness that were destroying my relationships.

He didn’t just cover them up and put a new tile on top, so I would look fixed. He went deep and dealt with the rottenness that was eating me up.

It was the most difficult time of my life. It hurt and I thought it would never end, but I’m grateful for every minute of it, because I love the transformation.

Not only did I get rid of judgment and bitterness, but I gained the ability to see when I’m tempted to judge or get bitter today. I don’t want to go down that path again, so I’m quick to work through those attitudes. Consequently, it’s easier to walk in righteousness in those areas. As a result, my relationships with God and others are sweeter and richer.

Because of that time, I am also more confident of God’s love for me. He really does work all things together for good—even when it feels like our very insides are being torn out.

We’re delighted with the new tile floor. We wish we had done it long ago. When we get a fresh coat of white paint on the cabinets and install the new window, it will look like a new room!

The same is true with transformation in our lives. The end product is always good if we hang in there and cooperate with Him until it is finished. It’s worth it all.

Blame

Blame is a way to discharge pain and discomfort or guilt.

Robert & Kay Camenisch encouraging and equipping relationships