Good grief! It's a phrase that I have heard used and used myself many, many times. It's almost never used in a positive way. Actually, I think this will be the first time I use it for good.
Grief by itself is very lonely and painful. It's empty and dark. There is no happiness there but...but, if you pair the word "grief" with "good" it can mean something so tender and precious it will steal your heart and knit together the open wound or tear in your life that has been caused by absence or loss that created that void to begin with.
Out of frustration we may throw our hands on our hips and call out "good grief" when the kids make a mess, the husband makes a mess, the dog makes a mess....you know where I'm going. "Good grief!" There IS another kind of grief. The good kind.
On Sunday morning I woke up when my husbands phone rang. It was early in the morning, not even daylight. I knew by the conversation that it had happened. That one of my dearest loved ones, one of my sweetest friends, one of my babies cherished love, had gone to be home with our Lord Father. In the dark hours of the morning my grandmother rested so completely that her sweet soul and mighty spirit were lifted away into the arms of the One who loves her most. I knew by the conversation I was hearing that my day was going to be much different than I had planned. I knew right then that grief was starting to lay over me like a heavy blanket. I didn't open my eyes, I just listened.
I knew before the phone rang something in my life would be different. Just before the phone rang I had been dreaming I was at my grandmothers house just next door and every one was there except her. The doors were wide open the window blinds had been rolled up, and everyone was moving about as I stood in the kitchen watching and feeling something empty. Her things were being divided up and the things I wanted most were being carted off but I didn't care. I just stood there listening to conversations and discussions, wishing with all my heart I was not a witness to this part of life.
It was a dream.
My grandmother had fulfilled every purpose God had for her and He called her home, ushered there by her angel. Good grief it hurts. Good grief there's so much pain. Good grief I miss her.
Yes good! Goodness! We were surrounded by so much grace and love that how could we not feel anything but good. We were loved on, hugged on, kissed on, and loved on some more. Good was all we could feel at times. We would stop...and think...and remember...and good was no longer a good word for how we felt. We all felt it.
So tonight as I was praying and leaning into God, pressing into Him, pouring out my heart, He leaned down and listened. My Jesus took me in His arms and said to me, it's okay. Grief is part of the healing, it's good. Grief is meant to be felt immediately. The pain is relentless in being noticed right away. So the grief stings, it bites, it wallows around, it plays hide and seek when you least want to, it speeds you up and stops you in your tracks. I'm also convinced it sits on your chest so you can't breathe...but when the tears come and you let go of the grief and let the tears flow, something happens. Release! We give that grief permission to be there but we take control tear by tear.
So as I remember why I'm grieving I learn to love the grief. The grief is good. It means I loved and was loved. It means that the tear in my life's canvas and emptiness can be knitted together. It means I must press into my Father God. It means I get to comfort my babies too. It is not all bad. It is good.
Matthew 5:4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Missing you with all my heart my sweet Granny.