I just finished reading Genesis and reread the words of Israel (Jacob) blessing his sons just before he died. Not surprisingly, I guess, the story has an extra level of rich meaning to me now, and I mourned with Joseph and his brothers as they said goodbye to their father.
I’ve always been struck by Israel’s funeral procession, where the Canaanites couldn’t help but notice how loud the mourning was. They even named a place “Egyptians’ Lament” because of the encounter.
Mourning is a hard thing. It’s not one-size-fits-all, and it’s not something that fades quickly. A dear friend recommended a book that she read after losing her father. In it, I found a quote from author Elizabeth McCracken who wrote, “Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving.”
I told Larry yesterday that I’ve gone back to talking about “normal things” in my blog because I’m afraid people may have gotten tired of hearing about grief. The thing is, though, that I just don’t have a lot to say about other things yet, and grief is very present.
Larry had good advice, telling me to write about that — about this topic — acknowledging the grief and helping to process it. But I’m not quite sure what to say.
Maybe I should tell you of the days where I told God I just didn’t know what to pray and just relied on the fact that He is good, trusting the words of Romans 8:26 that tell us, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”
It works in dark times.
Because sometimes words escape me.
One of the things God had been teaching me over the past few years is that He wants us to share the things we have gone through or are going through because that is the testimony of our lives. So, I’m sharing with a prayer that someone besides me needs to hear this.
Deuteronomy 33:27 sums it up way better than I ever could, “The eternal God is thy refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.”