Carry Me

I understand why so few people share their grief experiences. People have opinions… and mouths. In a place that is so horrifyingly raw there is no “water off a ducks back” or “shake it off.” Everything hurts.

It seems that the world so desperately wants the bereaved to “get better.” Grief makes people uncomfortable. In our culture people are largely unwilling to be uncomfortable… in any way. We don’t confess our sins to each other… that makes us uncomfortable. We don’t confront sin… that makes us uncomfortable. We don’t answer honestly when people ask how we’re doing… that would just make everyone uncomfortable. We don’t even go without air conditioning… uncomfortable.

The thing is we aren’t meant to be comfortable here. This world is not our home. These are tents of flesh, not our permanent dwelling. We are told that we, along with all creation, groan for Christ’s return. We groan for God to come, fold up this heaven and earth and make everything new!! 

  

I groan… I groan daily. The groan erupts of a desperate, aching longing. I absolutely do not groan out of any semblance of comfort! I am way beyond uncomfortable.

But in the past week, as a new season began to turn over in my grief and the black heaviness of depression began seeping any warmth remaining from my bones God made something clear to me. He is the source. No, seriously, HE. IS. THE. SOURCE.

Two consecutive days God spoke clearly and forcefully about who I am. First He reminded me that my perception of the world is to be seen through Him. He reminded me that I am not of this world and I am not to see any situation as a child of this world (1 & 2 Corinthians). He followed that lesson (which hit hard, square in the middle of my despair) with a lesson on the Israelites. I do love my Old Testament. It’s my heritage. Do you realize the Old Testament is your heritage?! That stirs my heart.

I keep a photo album of note cards. On each note card is written a scripture God has given me. Every day, usually many many times a day, I read through each scripture. They remind me what God has taught me recently and what promises He has given. One of the scriptures in my photo album is Exodus 14:14.

The LORD will fight for you. You need only be still. 

For months this was His message for me. Sit still!

Typically when a passage stands out to me as a Word He is giving me I read the entire chapter and sometimes the entire book to be sure I understand the context. However, with this scripture I didn’t do that. Over the past week I kept feeling the pull to read the context of this scripture. Then, something would distract me…

My lesson on the Israelites hinged on this and surrounding verses. Twice in the journey of our forbearers they crossed large bodies of water on dry ground. The one we are most familiar with is the crossing of the red sea. Exodus 14:14 captures the words of Moses to the Israelite nation as they come up against the Red sea, Egypt hot on their heels. They tell Moses “Didn’t we tell you this would happen while we were still in Egypt? We said, ‘Leave us alone! Let us be slaves to the Egyptians. It’s better to be a slave in Egypt than a corpse in the wilderness!’”

So Moses says, stay still, God will fight for you. Undoubtedly true… God does fight for us. But when I finally read this chapter I nearly laughed when I saw Yahweh’s response to Moses as recorded in Holy writ.

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Why are you crying out to me? Tell the people to get moving! Pick up your staff and raise your hand over the sea. Divide the water so the Israelites can walk through the middle of the sea on dry ground.

God had told His people that He would walk ahead of them on the journey…

After 40 years of wandering God did it again. This time it was the Jordan and it’s recorded in Joshua chapter 4. God parted the waters and the entire nation once again crossed on dry ground. God tells us they “hurried across.” I don’t know how God parted the water but I’m pretty sure I would have been moving my behind across that river bed. In my imagination there is a massive wall of water churning to my right, noise deafening, spray wetting my hair and clothes. All that power held back by the hand of God. Wow.

This time God sent twelve men, one from each of the twelve tribes, back to the middle of the riverbed to retrieve stones of remembrance. These stones were to be set up as a memorial so that the descendants of those living on that day would ask what they mean and be told of the glory of the LORD.

So my bible teacher asked “why the middle?” Why were the stones retrieved from the middle of the river? She discussed the middle as a place of questioning, a place of indecision, a place of “stuckness.” I was in the middle.

In this moment God said very clearly to my soul “Enough.” Enough wrestling with things you already know. Enough fighting my healing hands. Enough. Exodus 14:15. Move from this place baby girl. 

A peace broke over my head like anointing oil. I walked the next few days bewildered, and terrified. Peace?? What? Peace??

I was sure I had snapped and entered some sort of psychosis, or maybe I was in denial? Maybe I was doing this backwards? When would the next wave crash? Peace????

Then He reminded me “Child, My peace transcends anything you can understand and guards your heart and mind.” (Phil 4:6-7)

I’m not insane. I’m also not ok. Far far from ok. I think I may have only begun to grieve. He has washed me in peace, a peace I don’t even begin to understand, and this place of renewed security in Him turns me toward my loss. Rather than fighting and screaming and biting, questioning, spinning and doubting I am left with the depth of my agony.

Now comes depression. Profound, aching depression. But at last, I think I am letting Him carry me.