Seeking Equilibrium – A Man’s Journey Through Grief, #33

Fourteen months have passed since God called Mary Helen home. Many of you have followed me in this journey. Many have prayed for me. Many have encouraged me. For your sake—and my own—let me take inventory of my progress. I would be exaggerating if I said that I’ve now got a handle on this grief; I’ve been able to build a new normal. By contrast, I’m tempted to say nothing can ever be normal again.

And yet, my life has settled into a fairly stable routine. I’m quite busy. I have several serious writing projects that occupy me three or more days a week. Twice a week I have encouraging Bible studies and prayer times with good friends from the church. I’m part of an online book club connected with my undergrad university and I have just joined one at our local library. As the spring and summer weather improves, I’ll be scheduling some day trips to explore interesting places. Being busy has helped with the loneliness. But being busy doesn’t take the place Mary Helen occupied.

I’ve been trying to adopt Mary Helen’s friendly way of getting to know neighbours here where I live and new people at the church. And I must say, that I’ve made real progress here. Just the other day I had several break-through conversations. Several have asked me to find a time to go out for coffee.

I miss my family. They have been part of my healing. It was wonderful to be with John and Shona over Easter. But since my kids live at some distance; Stephen in Atlanta, John west of Toronto, and Debbie in Florida through the winter, I can’t do much to solve that problem. Of course, there will be more summer gatherings to enjoy.

Strangely enough, Sundays have become one of my loneliest times. Oh, I enjoy going to the Bible class and joining the congregation for their Sunday worship. I love my church. But since Mary Helen and I spent our whole lives together in ministry, either in Pakistan or here in Canada, sitting without her beside me just feels so unnatural, so lonely. With family not available to join me in a pew, I often find myself looking around the congregation for someone to sit beside. And then to leave church without her—well you can imagine.

I still have unpredictable periods of intense grief. They occur much less often that six, ten months ago. Yes, tears still come without warning. But I must say that some of the tears appear because of  a greater sense of God’s love and grace. They are tears of wonder and gratitude. If you have followed these posts, which began more like laments, you will have noticed that God has been behind the scenes all the way. He has been comforting. He has been sustaining me and challenging me to move forward. He has been reminding me of Mary Helen’s current address. He has been teaching me about those things which are of eternal import. He has been lifting my eyes to the wonders to come in the new heavens and the new earth. I think he has been drawing me closer to himself in love.

I have made no progress in cultivating platonic relationships with women. I miss the female perspective. But that’s okay, God knows best. Some might say, why don’t you move to a seniors’ community where there will be more day-to-day fellowship with a variety of people, men and women. That would be wise for many. But I enjoy my condo-independence, my control over meals, and just being able to come and go as I please. I’m so thankful for this ideal living space which both of us shared before her home-going. With God’s help, I need a degree of independence to chart my way.

I think the hymn describes my condition fairly well. Maybe not “new heights every day”, but progress:

I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining ev’ry day;
Still praying as I’m onward bound,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”

Refrain:
Lord, lift me up, and let me stand
By faith, on heaven’s tableland;
A higher plane than I have found,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

One other thing I would say in this which may be my last post in this series. (I make no promises.) I have been fairly transparent in these posts about my sorrows, my tears, my struggles, my pain, and my progress. Every church needs a small group where those who have lost loved ones may gather to share their grief and find encouragement to press on. We are all very reticent to open our hearts to others, even other believers. We maintain a persona that conforms to what our group deems normal for a Christian. But God calls us to be authentic.

A recent preacher from Uganda described the deep trauma experienced by many in his country due to wars. But he warned us in the west that all of us have hidden emotional wounds that need healing if we are to avoid a mental health crisis. What he said is true. We are already in the midst of a pandemic of depression and other mental health issues. The grieving, particularly, need a healing place. Let’s start with that.

To God be the glory for what he has done, continues to do, and will complete in the coming Day of Jesus Christ!

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