Grief is an Ocean
I’ve always described grief as an ocean. When people would ask me how I was doing, I would often imagine myself in that grief ocean and where I was in it. Sometimes I was treading water, sometimes I was wading knee deep, and sometimes I felt like I was drowning. The waves of grief will hit differently too. Somedays you have small waves, far apart. Somedays it’s large grief waves that come out of nowhere and drag you out to sea. And somedays, it’s a beautiful sunny day and you’re sitting on the beach and the grief waves gracefully roll over your legs.
If you asked me how I’ve been lately, I would describe a terrible storm at sea. The boat I was on capsized and I’m drowning. The waves are as big as buildings and take me underwater for what seems like hours at a time before I can catch my breath. And somehow, I’m still alive. I’m still fighting to stay above water. I’m just waiting for this storm to pass.
I know that sounds dramatic, but... it is. It’s real. If you’ve ever experienced grief or trauma, you can understand. I’ve been hesitant to write anything for weeks for fear of judgement or pity. I don’t want either, but I must share. There are a lot of us out in this grief ocean and I know there are some out there in a lifeboat looking to help pull me out of the deepest, darkest seas. I also know, at some point, I’ll be on that lifeboat looking for others. Sharing my story, my journey, it’s the only way to normalize grief and loss. It’s how others feel seen. We heal by seeing others who’ve had a similar experience keep going.
I’m not sure why I feel so raw now... nearly 6 months later. It feels like I just lost my daughter yesterday. I have a few guesses though. Milestones. Holidays. Pregnancy announcements. Every sunrise and every sunset. All of these are just compounding and weighing me down with grief. It’s hard to imagine that I will every have joy again.
I saw a TikTok the other day that really hit incredibly too close to home. It hurt and gave hope and hurt again. She was talking about how she asked her mother about her favorite bible verse, John 16:21. It says: “A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born, she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world”. That verse of course hurts deeply, because I gave birth to my daughter, and it’s as if I birthed grief with her. My anguish never left. It worsened.
“A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born, she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world”
But the woman went on to explain why her mother says this is her favorite verse. It’s not what you think. She focuses on the latter part of that verse. The fact that we can forget completely about the pain and anguish we have been through because of some miraculous joy.
So Jesus is saying, “I know your pain can feel too much and your pain can feel too long”, but he's also saying that there is a joy that he has already planned for you that will be so brilliant that you will forget the anguish you are experiencing now. Jesus understands our pain and our grief. He knows the nights feel dark and never ending, but he promises that joy will come in the morning.
I’m going to be honest with you, I’m struggling to believe that there will be joy. I’m not seeing much light at the end of this grief tunnel. I’m exhausted and depleted and just so incredibly sad, but I will cling to his promises. It is all that I have left. I will cling to his promises in the middle of this deep ocean.
