Grief brings different responses for everyone. After Ursula’s passing, I dreamed we were in a city, laughing, singing, and cheering as we socialized. Smiles and hugs were all around. It felt like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. It was great. But the scene would quickly change. Now Ursula was gone; the same crowd was cheering my departure. This sounds wild; it’s funny now, but it’s true: I was bound, gagged, and placed on a large catapult as the cheering crowd waited for my deployment. The catapult launched, and I flew through the air (without a cape, of course!), eventually landing miles from the city in a barren wasteland. The straps that bound me broke as I landed and rolled violently along the gravel. Dark, dirty, and alone, I looked around and saw the glow of the city lights I once belonged to. What catapulted me into this moment was the loss of my spouse.
“I felt like I had a contagious disease, that I wasn’t normal, and I needed to be banished to the Island of Misfit Toys following her loss.” Some came along to offer support; some stayed away because I reminded them of her loss. And others, not knowing what to do or say, just went away. I’d find myself thinking, “But I’m still here!” “I’m still alive; I haven’t gone anywhere!” The responses came from family, friends, and strangers alike. Grief makes us uncomfortable because it reminds us of our own mortality. Grief is the elephant in the room no one talks about, but everyone has to face because “You can’t get out of life alive.”
But God has the power and the foundation to carry you. Psalm 55:22 states, “Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. 1 Peter 5:7 states, “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” In the kingdom of God, you are never alone, nor will you be banished to the Island of Misfit Toys.
