Sadness
The 4th of July, for our family, will always be a holiday with an asterisk. A day we celebrate the independence of our nation, but also the last full day that our daughter laughed and enjoyed life this side of eternity.
A joyful day, and a day of sadness.
All of us have experienced sadness. Consequently, it’s a sensitive topic for conversation because it evokes feelings of pain and disappointment. It’s difficult talking to people who are sad, because we don’t know what to say, or how to act. It’s also difficult to talk to people when YOU are sad, because you don’t want to be the “downer” at the party.
The reality is that I’m sad. I’ve been sad for a long time. Two years to be exact. This past year, surprisingly, has been more difficult than the first. I thought it would get easier, maybe it will, but for now, it still hurts.
Most of us don’t know what to say to people who are sad. We want to cheer them up. That’s always my first thought – what can I do or say to make them feel better? We try to comfort them with statements, apologies or questions like, “I’m so sorry.” “We’re here for you if you ever need to talk.” “We’re praying for you.” “Is there anything we can do?”
All good things. And, if they are followed with sincerity and sacrifice, they do bring comfort and peace. However, most of the time, they are just cliche or expected words that are offered up during impossibly difficult situations. I’ve said them. You’ve said them. We’ve all said them.
The reality, that I’m slowly discovering (and I do mean slowly), that sadness is necessary. We want it to go away because it makes us uncomfortable. Whether we are the ones that are sad or the sadness belongs to someone we know or care for, we are uncertain how to behave or react. If I start crying, how is that going to make everyone else feel? Will they surround me with compassion and understanding or will they distance themselves from me and avoid me in the future? So, we paint on a smile and we pretend we’re okay. We say things like, “I’m doing better than I should be,” when in actuality, we’re a broken, shattered wreck today.
We’ve been in Turkey for the past two weeks and will be here for two weeks longer. The day we found out about Aly’s accident, we were here, on our way to church. Now, two years later, we’ve returned to the scene of the most traumatic event in our lives. It’s not been easy. It’s been harder than I thought it would be. Over the last few days, sadness has wrapped itself around me like the waters of the sea. I’ve had moments where I felt I was drowning, and moments, if I’m honest, where I just wanted to.
BUT, this is just a season of sadness. I will have others. I will also have more seasons of joy and adventure, happiness and peace. I will have other traumatic events in my life, should the Lord tarry and I live long enough. It’s the ebb and tide of life. Those seasons in the dark places can kill us if we don’t understand, and set our expectations accordingly, that sadness will find it’s way into our lives from time to time.
It’s okay to be sad. Sadness is actually like a pressure valve. It relieves pain when we open it and give it space to do it’s job. We can also help others open that valve by creating a “comfortable” space to be sad. I’ve had days where I just needed a shoulder to cry on…but was afraid to ask, afraid to create an uncomfortable place for someone else to be forced to walk into. It’s especially difficult for men I think. We need to know that we are not going to be seen as weak or overly sensitive. Yet, it’s as important, if not more so, for a man to be able to “open that valve” and let sadness have it’s season.
Don’t fear sadness. Placed in the hands of our Father, it can be a pathway out of the darkness.
Psalm 34:18, (ESV) “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
Ecclesiastes 7:3, (NLT) “Sorrow is better than laughter, for sadness has a refining influence on us.”
