Grief: Sitting in the Mud

I started the newsletter for this week and will finish it but not today. I’ve been awake since four it’s after nine and I’m just sitting down to write. Why? Because I don’t want to.

Grief sucks. Knowing you’re grieving and not being able to speed up the process sucks! Trying to do things and the brain being foggy and the tears not stopping sucks!

Why did God make us to be able to grieve, to feel this deeply, to hurt this bad? I’m not sure.

Yesterday, two different conversations, two different women, said, “I wish I had someone like you right after my dad died to help me as I grieved.”

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have any answers most days. But I have learned to sit in the mud.

Grief, depression, pain, and down days, I use the analogy of sitting in the mud. Sometimes we are sitting in the mud, it’s hard to move, it’s heavy, it’s gross, and we don’t have the energy or even the “want to” to get out of the mud. God doesn’t stand on the edge of this muddy place and yell at us. He doesn’t tell us to get up and clean up and move on. He doesn’t speak platitudes about better places and less pain or being united with them one day. He doesn’t even need to speak Bible verses about everything working together for good or God’s sovereignty. I see a nice fence with grass on the other side. There’s a gate that’s open. God walks through the gate and sits down with us. Okay, it’s probably Jesus since He’s the one with the body, but the point is God is with us. He sits down with us. If you need a hug, He hugs. Space, He stays back. Someone to yell at, He listens. There’s no shame for feeling the emotions that don’t stop and are overwhelming, He is there. He may quietly whisper a reminder that we are not alone. Sometimes he flings a little mud our way and we laugh. We might feel guilty for laughing, but He’s reminding us that we can laugh again. He holds us when we fall apart. He catches every tear. He is with us. And when we are ready, not the world says we should be ready, but when we are ready to get up, He carries us out of the mud. He doesn’t make us trudge through it; He lifts us up and takes us away from the mud and cleans us up. He gently speaks over us as we have a new way of thinking about life. He reminds us to love and hope again as we try to breathe and learn to walk in a new way. There is a grace and a peace that only comes from the Holy Spirit as He is the comforter and counselor.

Sometimes we revisit the mud. We may not stay as long as the first time, but as life hits again, there we are. And God once again joins us. He doesn’t belittle us for going back. The process repeats in some ways and changes in other ways. God is with us.

I have learned to embrace the muddy seasons because I know that I am not alone in them. I know they are not forever. I know that I will breathe normally again. The muddy seasons, when done well, give us time to heal and process and be ready for next. When done wrong, we can get stuck and stay there much longer than we should. When we ignore God’s whispers or try to crawl away from Him, we get more covered in mud and life gets hard and harder. If we try to get out on our own by stuffing the emotions and pretending we are okay, we start dying inside in an ugly angry way. We have to be intentional with the time of grieving.

What if we’re not the one grieving, but the friend of the one who is grieving, what then?

I have had multiple people tell me they don’t know what to do or what to say, so they stay away. Many people who have walked through grief who have told me people make them feel worse, so the first group is legitimate in their concerns.

So, what do we do when those we care about are grieving? We sit in the mud. I sat with a friend at coffee one day and said do you need to talk or should I monologue about my life to distract you? I monologued that day. Another friend started crying and apologized and started to change the topic. I told her she got to run the conversation, if she wanted to share she could, but I wasn’t going to ask for details. And I let her talk. We’ve dropped meals off without talking to the person. I have a friend who shares people dropped off food or mowed her lawn and she never saw them. We answer the text with, “that sucks” or “I have no words” just to remind them we care and it’s okay to grieve. I remind my friends to pick one hard thing to do. Showering is so hard. It’s a lot of work. It becomes a celebration during the mud season. Eating healthy meals or drinking water or getting dressed or walking to the mailbox. One hard thing that is accomplished and celebrate the heck out of it. Send the random text. Find a funny reel. Ask for a story when it’s time. We don’t try to get people out of the mud, we choose to sit with them and love them and let them know they are seen and beautiful and it’s okay to take time to process all of the emotions. God is their strength; I am his instrument. It is hard to walk with friends through deep grief, but it is absolutely beautiful to watch God heal them as He speaks through us.

And then rest. When we carry each others burdens, when we grieve with those who grieve, we have to take care of ourselves. Jesus got alone with the Father, we should do the same thing. Jesus ate and slept, we need to as well. Keep praying. Grief is not a day or week, it’s a lifetime. It comes in waves. Hits unexpectedly. Sometimes it will bring laughter at a fun memory, other times it’s back to the mud. God will let us know when to reach out if we are open to hearing His voice and obeying.

Whether you are grieving or sitting with a friend who is, allow yourself some time in the mud. I am believing that God has a beautiful plan and is holding you until it is time for the next step.