Good Grief: The Purpose in the Pain

November 10, 2008 
By Cara Davis  

(Editor's Note: This is Part Two in a four part series on grief.) 

Dad died this summer--just two days short of being diagnosed with melanoma three months before. It spread from a lymph node under his arm to both sides of his brain. Radiation took his hair. The cancer took everything else, including his hearing. His weight melted until he was a skeleton draped with skin.  

It happened so fast many friends didn't realize what was happening. His own brother managed to come visit him only hours before he passed. My mom took care of him those last months in a way I can only describe as fierce. I saw her live out the nightmare scenario of her wedding vows. 

Some days, even some weeks, it hits harder that Dad is gone. Mainly, I find myself feeling sorry for my Dad that he died. I hate that he had to suffer through his sickness and feel himself slipping away. Yet even beyond that, I felt bad that he is dead, as if he would be capable of feeling my empathy or something. It's strange. 

I find myself wanting to still pray for him even now, weeks after he's been gone. Truth is, if what we believe and hope is coming after this life, there's no reason for feelings of sympathy toward the deceased, just feelings of loss and sadness that they're not here with us. I have those, too. 

The other day, my baby Madilyn pointed to the picture we have in her room of her and her “Poppy,” which is what we called Dad for her. And it made me glad that she noticed him, and sad that she won't remember him. 

Unable To Watch the News

My grandfather died two weeks after my baby was born, and my father died one month shy of her first birthday. In between those events I've been inundated with stories of other people dying unexpectedly, people having horrible illnesses, children suffering, natural disasters looming--it's overwhelming. I feel my heart filling up with fear. I can't even watch the news most of the time. 

And I know this is not the way to spend my days. I'm certain it's not what God had in mind when He promised life to the fullest. I feel like some days the faith is there for me to walk on, other days I can't seem to find my footing at all. Questions like these torment me: If God exists, why are some people healed and some aren't? Why are some prayers answered and some are met with a deafening silence? 

A Grieving God

One of the most helpful realizations in my road to recovery from grief was that God grieves with us. Isaiah 53:4-5 says, “Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.”

Not only did God experience suffering of His own, He shares in the suffering we experience today and is holding out healing to anyone brave enough to let go of sorrow and embrace peace: “Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away” (Isaiah 51:11). 

God is enough. He has to be. When prayers go unanswered, knowing God intimately has to be our goal. Lives are temporary. God's perspective is eternal. It doesn't feel like enough when you're in the middle of a pit of grief, but soon you'll realize it's your only means to get out of it. 

Happiness in Grief

Craig Borlase is an author and pastor in the U.K. He has experienced great loss in a very small amount of time. His mother, step-dad, and mother-in-law all died of cancer within months of each other. Yet in this time of unparalleled stress, Craig is experiencing the impossible. He explains: 

It was after my mother's death that I realized that I was experiencing something odd in the midst of the grief; happiness. It seemed bizarre at first until someone wise joined the dots for me; he talked about 'exquisite grief' and it suddenly became clear that experiencing the pain of missing someone does not mean that life becomes grey. Grief is not necessarily welded to depression. In fact, the root of the word links it in with the carrying of something heavy. It takes strength to do this and the work is not without reward. Maybe, in some way, the deeper the relationship one loses, the better prepared one is for the carrying. It might not be a lighter load, but perhaps one is able to take it further. I don't know about the details or reasons, but I do know that my wife and children and friends are richer rewards to me these days than ever before. 

Perhaps the goal of grief--the purpose in the pain of loss--is that we might live the rest of our days here better than the way we have heretofore. 

Next Week: Good Grief: It'll Sneak Up on You 

ninetyandnine.com  

© 2008, Cara Davis  

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Cara Davis is a writer, editor, designer and regular contributor to ninetyandnine.com. 

Footnote

1. Borlase, Craig. “five familiar phrases these days …,” posted July 16, 2008 on the blog, “Nothing is Written”.