There are moments in our life we do not get to choose. They arrive without our permission, and yet we stand at a threshold we cannot refuse. We must go through. The only question is how we will be shaped as we walk through this valley. Will it harden us or deepen us?
Grief and death are of this sort. These are not things we can experience and remain unchanged. And so there’s wisdom in learning to take these things to heart.
Of course, we can try to avoid, repress, and just seek to manage these moments. And perhaps we can just keep moving for a while. But eventually unmanaged grief becomes pressure, and pressure seeks release. This might come out through our irritability or some secret sin that scratches a momentary itch. Or maybe we just redouble our efforts to distract and keep ourselves too numb to feel anything. We might be functional, but our heart soon grows cold and we slowly lose our capacity for joy.
On the other hand, we can allow grief to enlarge our souls. The knowledge of death brings a sober reality into our days. It’s not morbid to think about death in this way, but clarifying. We see beauty and time and love all differently. Our vision becomes sharper, moments sacred, and our work of love more urgent. When we realize our days are numbered, we start to consider what kind of man we will be with the days we have left.
In this way, grief is a type of initiation. We’re entering into a new season in which nothing will be the same again. And we can either allow ourselves to regress into darkness and despair, or choose to pursue the light and live life to the full. We will be formed either way. But to be formed well we must be intentional.
Ready or not, grief is coming. You cannot control the loss, but you can decide whether or not it stretches you and makes you better.
Photo by awar kurdish on Unsplash
