Plowing through the mud

I walk along the water on a slippery, muddy path. The wind is blowing wildly and the clouds are grey. Rain is coming and all of this together is exactly what I need right now. Cold wind, drizzly rain, sloshing water, muddy path that I need to walk carefully so that I do not slip. This is how my life feels like.

I just posted a card in the door of someone whose end is drawing near. I do not know if this person appreciates it, but I just want to let them know that I think of them and pray for them. I don’t even know if this family knows God and believes in Him.

Walking further I wonder why I wrote that card. That muddy, slippery road is as how my life appears to be. And that not only applies to me. It applies to them also. And many others, maybe you yourself, can relate to that.

I think I just wanted to reach out to them. To walk these paths together. So that I can grasp your hand when you threaten to sink away in the mud or almost slip. Just as I thankfully have people around me who are not afraid to slither with me and who reach out to me when I have fallen or allowed it to drag me away.

Someone sent me a long article about grief. One of the things that touched me in it was that the author said that life consists of a long series of losses. If your life is calm, than that is actually more extraordinary than when your life is full of crises.

It also said that it is good to face your sorrow and to show it to others, because we are also unique in how we mourn. I thought that was rather peculiar. But to me, that sounds a lot better than the cliché I heard quite a lot that ‘everybody mourns in their own way, there is nothing good or wrong’. There is truth in that (although I don’t know how longing for whiskey and cigars can be called really good), but what I hear in this is: ‘I don’t care how you experience your grief’. And it makes me feel lonely.

But that we are all unique and so each of us experience grief uniquely, and that in that uniqueness we can also mirror something of Gods colorfulness, that makes me feel connected. And that is why I hereby show you my grief.

I plow through the mud and make sure that I don’t fall or slip or sink away. If you are doing the same right now, please know that you are not alone and that your grief may be heard and seen.

First written in Dutch on October 11, 2017
https://brokenbutreal.wordpress.com/2017/10/11/ploegen-door-de-modder/

2 thoughts on “Plowing through the mud

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